Not Tom Riddle, Not Yet The Dark Lord
by ellamalfoy8
Summary: Voldemort's taken over, and everyone Hermione cares about is dead. So she uses a time turner and goes back to the start, to teach Tom Riddle to love, as he helps her cope with the loss of those who he would kill. Irony, trust issues, and new emotions.
1. A Start Over

**A/N: Okay, I caved, I wasn't going to write three fan fics at once, but yet here I am typing up the first chapter of a new fic. This is Hermione/Tom Riddle fic, and my first pathetic excuse for a time turner romance tale. Don't flame about this coupling, I felt like writing one. The actual romance part may take a while, but from the people who have read it so far, (Hey Perry!) or at least parts of it, it is worth the wait. Tom may be a little out of character, but that's just because we don't see much of his actual personality when he's alone.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter (at least not in reality.)**

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**Chapter 1: Start Over**

Harry was gone. Ron was gone. Ginny was gone. Her parents were gone. Most of the Order was gone. Her life was gone. Amazingly enough, after the final battle Hogwarts seemed normal. She was the only living thing in it, but it remained looking like it did when she had first entered it seven years ago. Every portrait hung on its hook, every door still nailed to its hinges, every blanket tucked into each bed. It felt undeniably wrong, but everything was in the right place.

"You must change this, Miss Granger," Dumbledore's portrait told her. "You must start from the beginning." The tired and injured girl stood in front of the painting, saddened and pained beyond believe. "Things can not stay this way." The girl didn't answer. Dumbledore pushed his glasses up his long nose, and surveyed the shell of a person standing before him. "Please Hermione, prevent this from happening."

"How?" the girl whispered, pain, grief, and loss mixed in her voice.

"Young Tom Riddle needs to find love. I ask you to go back to when he was your age and give that to him." Normally Hermione would have snorted in outrage, but she didn't have the energy. He continued, "I understand one can't force one's self to fall in love, and you may be repulsed when you see him, but you need to make him fall for you. You can not hold a grudge."

"Not hold a grudge? That thing just killed my life away! Corpses litter the school grounds! How can I fall in love with him?" She kicked the stonewall below his portrait. He sat in his golden armchair and waited for her to calm down.

"I understand completely, but you must do this, you alone can do this. Mr. Riddle was attracted to knowledge and organization, as well as power, Ms. Granger. This is your job, you must save innocent lives." Hermione sunk onto the floor, not bothering to massage her throbbing foot, since she was bleeding, bruised and aching in so many other places. "My time turner is in my desk drawer if I remember correctly. I believe you know how to use it."

"How do you know this will work, that he'll even be attracted to me?" she asked quietly.

"I just know." Slowly, the battered figure got to her feet and staggered across the room. Indeed, a small time turner was nestled in the otherwise empty drawer. She slid the chain around her neck, and glanced back at the painting. Its occupant nodded encouragingly, as she began to spin the small hourglass. Blurs rushed past her, and conversations she couldn't make out were talked over her, until her feet hit solid ground. Before collapsing on a soft surface, she could almost distinguish a raven-haired boy looking down at her curiously.

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**A/N: Okay, I want reviews and feed back people. I was really nervous about posting this, so give me your opinion. Next chapter: Tom and Hermione meet.**


	2. A Comfort

**A/N: Okay, I know this chapter is fairly strange and ironic, but I really love it. I'm sure some of you will hate the whole Tom/Hermione relationship but I don't care! So, um, read on and review! And if anyone knows if Dipet has one p or two, let me know.**

**0o0o0**

**Chapter 2**

"How intriguing, Professor Dipet, I wonder where she came from," said a deep voice.

"Yes, very mysterious indeed, my dear Tom, though she has a very strange pendant around her neck, an hourglass if you will." Hermione couldn't recognize either voice, and couldn't feel any part of her body, other than her outrageously heavy eyelids that refused to open.

"She's in terrible condition, I do wonder what happened to her. She seems around my age, perhaps she is a lost student or something?" She was vaguely aware that she was lying down on a bed, her head on a pillow.

"I doubt it, I would know of her already, Tom. What I want to know is how she suddenly appeared in my office, falling directly into your lap." Her eyes were opening slightly, and she could make out two figures looking down at her curiously. One was old and rather pudgy, while the other was tall and skinny, with neat black hair and pale skin. Hermione's nerves were awakening, and the cuts from her battle with Bellatrix were beginning to sting. A small moan escaped her lips and she shifted, trying to roll off her bruised side. The elderly man peered down at her cautiously and the teen observed her closely. She was in a right state, that was sure, but she was still pretty, he noticed. There was an air of elegance around her, and he once again wondered where she had come from. Hermione whimpered into her pillow, but didn't move for several minutes. The head master grew impatient.

"Madame Bloomfield, will you inform me if any change is made concerning the girl?" A frantic looking witch who was bustling around an occupied bed toward the end of the ward nodded. "Coming Tom?" Dipet asked the boy who was still staring thoughtfully at the scared patient.

"Could I stay here? So that a student's here when she wakes up?" The professor shrugged.

"I suppose so, you _are_ head boy. I'll see you later then Tom?" He nodded, and the boy sat down in an armchair next to the bed as the man left the room.

This girl was absolutely fascinating. She left him with questions he couldn't answer, and he hated not knowing the answers. She was a puzzle, a riddle if you will, and he wanted to solve her. Little did Hermione know, she was already changing the future.

**0o0o0**

When her eyes finally could open all the way, Hermione had to bite back a scream. There, staring directly at her, grey eyes and all, was a younger, hardly recognizable, Voldemort. Hours before, though actually years later, he had hexed her, killed her best friend, and ordered the torture of her parents. Yet there he was, calm as cake, leaning casually back in an armchair, looking into her eyes.

"Hello," he said simply, and she gasped quietly. He was _talking_ to her. Even as she franticly tried to relax, she realized how attractive he was. With crisp black hair, aristocratic features, and a small mouth, she felt _attracted_ to him. She felt ready to vomit. Realizing that he was waiting for a reply, she squeaked,

"Hi." He propped his head in his hand and continued to examine her, while she did her best not to flee from the room. It was obviously the middle of the night, and they were the only two people in the ward. She gathered that she was in a much older hospital wing. She shivered slightly, feeling only a thin sheet covering her.

"Are you cold?" he asked softly, his voice even and smooth, not yet the dark and twisted hiss it was in her time. Goose bumps bubbled on her skin. She didn't answer, words having left her, and he stood up and fetched a blanket from a closet across the room. Was Voldemort being considerate? He came back and unfolded the blue quilt, layered it above her, and sat back down and resumed staring at her once more.

"Thank you," she mumbled, and he chuckled softly. _Did I just chuckle?_ He asked himself. _Blast, one girl pops up and Lord Voldemort turns into Dumbledore!_ But he didn't argue with himself for very long. He wanted to learn more about this girl.

"Who are you?" he asked, and watched at the girl bit her lip, only to release it, pain stretched across her face. "Are you okay?" he added, as tears crept into her eyes. He felt concern for this wounded girl, and surprised himself by actually want to help her. She shook her head weakly. "What happened to you?"

"So many duels, so many hexes," she murmured into her pillow, not paying attention to what was spilling out of her mouth, almost delirious from the pain. "So many lives lost." Riddle looked at her, perplexed. Trembling, she added, "Everything's gone."

"What's gone?" he asked her, captivated, wanting more answers but only receiving more questions.

"Everything…" she was loosing conscious, and he watched as she fell asleep, feeling oddly protective of this girl. He would look after her, he decided. He would help her. Extending a hand, he pushed back some wispy hair from her scratched skin. It was odd how you could feel totally in control, then meet one person and doubt all that you had planned.

Not feeling bashful at all, he kissed the sleeping figure softly on the forehead, before he molded back into his chair, preparing to dose (A/N: sp?) off into dreamland.

**0o0o0**

The first thought Hermione had when she awoke several hours later was one of comfort. She became aware that her legs were smooth and unscarred, and her hair had no fleck of mud nor was it messy at all. When she bit down on her lip, it didn't sting. She was wearing her simple cotton skirt and blouse, and there was no longer a sheet or blanket covering her. She felt rested and ready to go seduce Voldemort. She giggled softly, and heard someone mumbling above her. Opening an eye, she was once again met by Tom Riddle, who was hovering over her, healing the giant bruise on her side. The irony of the situation stuck her, him healing the wounds he had caused. But she let him continue as all the pain from the final battle faded away. In its place were fear, hopelessness, and loss. She chided herself for mourning her lost friends. _Pull yourself together Granger, you're mourning people who haven't even been born, and don't have to die if you do your job._

"Feeling better?" Tom asked quietly, as he sat back down in his chair, having finished his task. She rubbed her eyes and wondered if he had been there all night.

"Yeah," she croaked, her voice sore from all of the screaming when- _no, don't think about that._ "Thank you." The boy didn't acknowledge her words, just continued to watch her. The silence was unnerving, and she gulped under his gaze.

"Where did you come from?" he asked blatantly, as she wondered how to answer. Maybe playing dumb was the best way to go. She _wanted_ to forget after all.

"I don't remember," she said, watching as curiosity built behind his eyes. "I just remember pain, hurt." She had to keep him interested so she could make him fall for her faster. The sooner she could do that, the sooner she could go home. If she could go home, that was. She might have to stay. Stay, and never see Harry and R- _stop thinking about that._ "Then it was over." Tears welled in her eyes, and she sat up nervously, glad that she wasn't wearing a flimsy hospital gown around him. He seemed so innocent, captivated by her mystery. But he wasn't so innocent, had he already killed his uncle, his father, Myrtle? Did it matter? He would kill Harry, kill everyone. The last thread of self-control broke, and she began to cry. Tom stood up and perched next to her on the bed, not embarrassed in the least. In his presence the tears intensified, and she buried her face in her hands, letting herself wallow in grief. A pair of strong arms pulled her to him, and she cried onto his shoulder, not caring at all.

Tom however, was thinking too much. This wasn't him! He was cruel, heartless, and anti-compassionate in all forms, and yet there he was, supporting a girl he had just met, who had fallen into his lap during a meeting with the headmaster. Why do I care? He thought, rubbing the girl's back softly. Why does it pain me so much to see this hurt? He was a murderer, and yet one crying teenager took his guard down. Was he Lord Voldemort, or was he just another power hungry teen? So much for heir of Slytherin…

Hermione realized in the middle of her crying jag, this was not Voldemort. This was a boy, who was still coming into his own. He was still impressionable, murderer or not. She was to help him, which was her job. Prevent him from becoming the monster who- _no don't think about that. _

"Thank you," she whimpered into his sweater, no longer afraid of the boy supporting her. "Uh, where are my manners?" she asked rhetorically, pulling away from him, wiping away tears. She extended her hand awkwardly, turning herself sideways to face him. "Hermione Granger," she said as he turned her hand and pressed it gently to his lips.

"Tom Riddle," she said smoothly as he let go of her hand, surprised to find that she wasn't blushing or even flustered at his move. It was even as if she was expecting it. She was.

"Aren't you the charmer, Tom," she was flirtatiously, but blanched at her idiotic comment. She was not a flirt, but a bookworm, and had never bothered in trying to attract male attention. Studies had always come first, so she had never actually _tried_ to flirt. He ignored her embarrassment.

"You aren't the first person to say that." It surprised her how low key he was. _Almost like Harry_, she thought. _What a thought._

"What's the date?" she asked.

"December 20, 1944," he said. "You popped in during holiday break." She nodded vaguely. That would give them some alone time. This whole idea was almost comical.

"You don't go home for break?" she asked, wondering how much he would tell her. He folded his arms over his chest.

"I don't like to return to my muggle orphanage." She could understand, it was like Harry and the Dursleys. "You know about magic, right?" he added skeptically, though his face remained stoic.

"Of course," she said, laughing nervously.

"Good." They sat in silence, as she magicked (A/N: sp?) her face clean. "You should probably go see Professor Dipet now, and arrange what you should do." Hermione finally realized how nervous she was. She was alone.

"Come with me?" she inquired as she slid off the bed.

"Of course, how else would you know where to go?" he said with a small smile.

**0o0o0**

**A/N: So, next chapter Tom does some mind invasion, and learns about guilt. Teaser?**

"_**You're hiding something aren't you? You should tell me before I find out myself. Come on, confide in me!"**_

**Then, in the next chapter after that one:**

"_**Well, who do we have here?" Rosier asked rhetorically. "Does Tom have a little girlfriend he didn't tell us about? What are you afraid of, we just want to talk to you."**_


	3. A New Emotion

**A/N: Okay, I know that this story isn't very popular yet, but keep reading, and review! Okay, I know this story is fairly random and ironic in parts, but please bear with me!**

**Disclaimer: Me: Can I have Tom? JK: No. Me: Please? JK: No. Me: Why? Please? JK: NO! Me: You suck. JK: But I'm rich. Me: Please? JK: Security!**

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**Chapter 3: A New Emotion**

Walking through the near empty halls of Hogwarts with Tom Riddle was certainly an experience. He was unlike anyone she had ever met, confident and yet not arrogant, quiet and yet not shy. And he was smart too. She had yet to see his dark side but she didn't really care. It wasn't as if she wanted to. Most of the school had gone home for the holidays, but a few younger looking teachers greeted Tom with respect, before continuing on their way. It seemed that being head boy came with a lot of liberties. She would have had them if- _no, don't think about that._

She walked slightly behind him, sot that it didn't look like she knew where she was going. From there she could also observe him without being noticed. He was wearing black muggle jeans and a crisp black sweater that had treads of green sewn into the trim. The clothes were worn, but clean, and well taken care of. His hair was neat, combed, and slightly gelled, she noticed, and his slender wand poked out of his side pocket. They didn't talk much, though he pointed out a few doors leading to classrooms or bathrooms she might need to know about, but there was no conversation. They didn't need one, the silence was surprisingly comfortable. When they reached the stone gargoyle Tom muttered, "Peace on earth," sarcastically, and stepped back to let her pass him.

When they reached the door at the top of the stairs he knocked twice and Dippet called them in. Tom held the door open for her and she stepped through, seeing also a younger Professor Dumbledore. She wasn't alone _he_ was here. He winked at her. She had a feeling he knew how and why she was here.

"Ah yes, I was wondering when I would see you again," said Dippet from behind his desk.

"Professor Dippet, this is Hermione Granger," Tom said, as she leaned across his desk to shake his hand. "And this is Professor Dumbledore, who teaches Transfiguration." She shook his hands as well, and he smiled at her, his eyes once again twinkling like they had before the war.

"Nice to meet you both," she said politely before the headmaster waved her into an armchair. Tom sat down next to her.

"Well Ms. Granger, how is it that you appeared suddenly in my office yesterday?" he asked gently, and Hermione got the assumption that he was a total pushover.

"I don't know sir, I can't remember anything about myself. I remember everything that doesn't really relate to me, such as spells, and things I've learned, but not how or where I learned them." She knew her explanation was weak and hoped they didn't ask questions. They didn't, but she could tell that only Professor Dippet believed her.

"Well it seems to me that you must stay here at Hogwarts then! Until we learn more about you I'm afraid that you must be educated here. Do you know how old you are?"

"I _think_ I'm 17, though I'm not sure how I know."

"Then you'll be in class with Tom here. Since this is the holiday break, however, you won't have to worry about that till the time comes around. Why don't you stay with Tom in the head's dorm until we can get you a place to stay, if that's ok with you two of course?" They nodded, though Tom looked hesitant. "Perhaps you two can go have an early breakfast down in the kitchens and get to know each other better." Tom helped her up as Dumbledore watched the two teens. He knew exactly what was going on from the golden glint of a chain around her neck. His time turner, the latest invention from the ministry. Only a few people knew about them, not even Dippet, but he wasn't going to tell. Whatever Ms. Granger's task was, he was going to help her complete it. Dippet had already returned to paperwork and Tom and Hermione left the room. He would be watching them, that was certain.

**0o0o0o0**

"Are you hungry?" Tom asked her as they walked down a corridor. She shrugged.

"Not really," she answered, watching the familiar portraits that they passed. Not much would change in the sixty-year gap between her present and the past.

"Same." Silence…

"Can we go back to your dorm? I feel fatigued." He nodded and turned around. She followed him up a flight of stairs and around several corners until he came to a stop in front of a portrait of a vampire who they had caught cleaning his gums.

"Lethifold," he told him, and the painting swung forward to reveal a small room, lit by a fireplace and a few windows. The room was painted a rich dark blue and had silver moldings, with a black smooth carpet that had stars designed onto it, displaying parts of the Milky Way. Two gray sofas, one with red and gold piping, the other with silver and green, sat before the fireplace and two doors with the same color scheme were across the room. A small kitchen area was next to the portrait hole they had come through. The room looked completely different than it had in her time.

"Wow," she murmured, turning around to see a giant bookshelf. Tom lent against the wall, watching as she slid a finger over the leather spines. "This is so cool!" she added, unable to say anything more sophisticated. She turned back to face him, but stepped back, knocking into the bookcase as she saw him twirling his wand between his long fingers. He raised an eyebrow at her fear.

"What?" he asked before pointing his and at the kitchen. She turned to see several sandwiches making themselves on the counter. Relief swelled through her as he sat down on one of the sofas, peering up at her curiously. _Relax Mione, he won't hurt you._ He has no reason to. Hermione sunk into the cushions of the other sofa as he summoned two butter-beers from the magical fridge, then handed one to her. She took it gratefully, and downed a long sip.

"Tell me about yourself, Tom," she stated, kicking off her battered sneakers as he slid his wand back into his pocket.

"What do you want to know?" He flexed his fingers absentmindedly and Hermione noticed a glint of gold she hadn't before.

"Where'd you get that ring?" she asked, doing her best to sound causal.

"Family heirloom." The words had some sting to them, and she decided not to press further. The Gaunt ring rested smugly on his thin finger as he lay back on the couch. "Next question." Numerous thoughts of what she could inquire sped through her mind, but if she wanted to befriend him, they would all have to wait.

"Any special talents? Quidditch perhaps?" He snorted and took a gulp of his drink.

"Quidditch is for mindless drones." Though she secretly agreed, she bristled at the thought of Harry and Ron being called mindless drones. "No, I focus on academics mostly… and some other less common interests." She knew what he was referring to and gave an involuntary shudder. "How about you?" She gulped down another mouthful.

"Not really," she said nervously as the time turner pressed against her chest under her blouse. "I'm just the average bookworm." He raised his eyebrow again.

"If you're nothing special, why are you so nervous?" Damn. She knocked back the rest of her drink and he released a smirk. "You're hiding something, aren't you?" She ignored his question and summoned another butter-beer, catching it quickly in her hand his snickered, part menacingly part flirtatiously. "You should tell me before I find out myself." She didn't need to wonder what he would do, _Legimancy_. "Come on, Hermione, confide in me!" He gave her a sad looking puppy dog pout. It bothered her how handsome he was? "Alright then, I'll just find out myself."

She put all of her defenses like Harry had taught her, emptying her mind and ignoring the memories of the corpses around her that tugged to get out. Closing her eyes, she pushed all thoughts aside, but she could feel him trying to get in. She wouldn't let him in. The sound of glass breaking cracked his focus, and she felt very shaky.

"Oh, Merlin I'm sorry, Hermione, are you okay? Did any glass hit you?" She opened her eyes slowly and saw that she had shattered her bottle, and he was crouched on the floor in front of her, picking up shards of glass off the ground. Her breathing was unsteady as she did her best to calm her racked brain. "That's never happened before!" But she didn't hear him. She fainted, falling sideways on the sofa, as he felt a new emotion, one he had never felt before: guilt. Abandoning the glass, he stood up and scooped her up in his arms, newlywed style with her head leaning against his chest, and carried her through the silver framed door. Laying her gently down on his neat green duvet, he hated this new emotion. A Dark Lord couldn't have this emotion. This pale girl surrounded in green was ruining all his plans for money and power. But what scared him most was that he didn't mind. Slowly he backed out of the room and closed the door quietly behind him, realizing that he would let her keep her secrets.

**0o0o0o0**

**A/N: So review! Now! Go! And read my other fan fics, A Well Kept Secret and Stop Calling Me Malfoy. Thanks to all my reviewers, by the way: Shout, san01, Kichou, WoodCrazy, lutra33, wannabe-hermione, PeskyPixiePicsaPotter, Periwinkle4444 (hey Perry!), rinkurocks, thank you guys! Keep reviewing!**

**Next time:**

_She had thought he was Harry. For a split second when he entered the room, she had thought Harry had come to save her. _

**Toodles!**


	4. A Name

**A/N: So, now Hermione has another crying jag, Tom does some yelling, and the both experiment with some new spells. Bring on the irony, people, bring it on. Hi Perry.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

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**Chapter 4: A Name**

There was so much green when she opened her eyes: green bed, green walls, green curtains. It looked like a Slytherin explosion. She sat up and lent against the headboard of the bed someone had laid her on. It was a boy's room, there was no doubt, but it was freakishly neat. Not one drawer in the dresser wasn't pushed in, and no sock stretched across the floor. A book bag and a stack of parchment rested on a desk, along with a lit candle and several quills, all at 90-degree angles. It was creepy how unlike Harry and Ron's room it was. _No, don't think about that._

She was pulled out of her thoughts by a brisk knock on the door across from hr bed, which was followed by peals of laughter. Nervously, she walked across the room to the door and slid it open a crack. Several leering faces stared back at her as she leapt back in surprise. Rosier, Avery, and Nott snickered, the original death eaters.

"Well who do we have here?" Rosier asked rhetorically, as she backed away from them, remembering when she had last seen them. Rosier standing over Ron's body, Avery cursing Lupin into oblivion, Nott laughing as a deflected curse hit her in the heart. "Does Riddle have a little girlfriend he tried to hide from us?" He and the other two snickered as she tripped and fell onto her back, still pulling herself away from them. They laughed like they had last time, and Hermione felt completely defenseless, realizing her wand must have fallen in the living room. _Please_, she begged mentally. _Please, I can't do three on one! Help me someone! _ "What are you afraid of? We just want to talk to you." His menacing tone wasn't convincing, neither was his drawn wand. She backed up into the wall, and pleaded for some protection from the smirking trio. And it came, just as the hex was on the tip of Rosier's tongue.

"Relivismecha!" bellowed the raven-haired boy, throwing open the door. The jet of blue light hit Rosier in the back, and he sank onto his knees, as Nott and Avery looked on in amazement. Rosier's face broke as he gasped and he ran his hands through his shaggy brown hair. The teen whimpered as Hermione tried to dissect what Tom's curse was doing.

"Finite incantantum," Tom muttered darkly, and the spell was taken off the sunken figure. "Now go!" he spat, moving aside so Avery and Nott could drag the now weeping teen out of the bedroom. Hermione was still shivering in the corner as Tom stared darkly at the closed door. "Did they hurt you?" he asked protectively, almost burning the door down with his murderous glare. She could almost laugh at his tone, Voldemort? Protective of the mudblood best friend of the boy-who-lived? But he hadn't even met Harry yet, or his parents for that matter. And in her mind, even though he had tried to force entry into said mind, he was still just Tom Riddle.

"No," she gasped, feeling tears slide down her cheeks. She had thought he was Harry. For a split second when he entered the room, she had thought Harry had come to save her. He turned to face her, and upon noticing she was crying, walked over and sunk down next to her, letting her have a good long cry. He didn't know what to do or what to say, so he just kept her company.

Hermione chided herself for crying. Her friends were dead, but she could _save_ them. There was nothing she could do but do as Dumbledore had asked. _This boy isn't Voldemort_, she told herself. _This is a boy who needs you, and considering your situation, who you need_. So she dropped her guard and allowed herself to melt onto his shoulder. He let her, and just sat there, wondering how on earth he could cheer her up. This girl had been through a lot, he knew it, and she needed some support.

"What on earth happened to you, Hermione?" he whispered.

"I've lost everything," she said through sobs, giving into the need of support. "My- my best friends are- are gone. My f- family, my t- t- teachers." She snuffled and he pushed some bushy, and now wet hair off her face. "He- he killed everything."

"Who did this to you?" he asked, feeling anger and hate bubble up at the person who had hurt this girl so badly. But apparently that was the wrong thing to ask, and she moaned and buried her face into his neck as he stroked her back. "Don't worry." Sob. "It can only get better."

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

He was reading a book in the common room when she came out of the bathroom later in the day. She had finally changed out of her frayed clothing and into a comfy denim dress that she had conjured from memory. Tom had let her use his bathroom so she could clean herself up, and she had found it as neat as his bedroom.

He looked up from his book as she settled into the other couch.

"Feeling better?" he asked cautiously. She nodded and peered curiously at the spine of his book.

"What are you reading?" she asked, and he turned the book to read the cover.

"A Warlock's Guide To Making Up Spells. It's random but interesting." She nodded again as he flipped back to his page.

"Did you make up that spell you used earlier?" He nodded. "What did it do, by the way?" She was a little nervous about his answer, since it might be a dark hex or curse.

"It forces the person to relieve their worst memory in their mind. It's a simple spell, but affective as you saw earlier. It's a good distraction."

"That's impressive magic to make up." He shrugged, and chose to ignore the compliment.

"You can get a book if you'd like," he said, the perfect thing to say. She smiled and leapt up to search the shelves for a tomb to enjoy.

"Curing Curse – Induced Cuts?" Tom read off the cover of the book she had decided on.

"I would love to be a healer once I graduate." She thumbed through a couple pages and both returned to their reading… supposedly. Hermione watched him over her book as he read. She noticed he sucked on his bottom lip as he studied, and that his angular face softened slightly as he absorbed the words. There was no sense of boredom radiating from his as it did from her old friends when they read, and she was grateful that she would not have to endure tear inducing discussions on quidditch. Tom wasn't like other boys, not that she'd expected him to be. He was intelligent, and sophisticated, interested in academics, and passionate about something other than broomsticks. As much as she hated to admit it, he was the perfect guy for her, and she hated that. Plus, he had great hair…

There was a knock on the door and they both looked up at it nervously. Hermione shrunk away from it, expecting more death eaters to pop out from behind it. Tom read her mind and got up to answer it, as she waited nervously.

"Ah, hello Mr. Riddle, I hope you're having a nice day," greeted a warm voice over Tom's head. Hermione relaxed and got up, before walking over to stand next to Tom. "Hello Ms. Granger, I was wondering if I could speak with you alone?" Dumbledore's eyes still held their hopeful twinkle. "If that is ok with Mr. Riddle?" Hermione hadn't noticed him stiffen beside her.

"Of course, Professor," he answered politely, but sent a death glare that plainly said, _if you hurt her, you die_. Dumbledore chuckled as Hermione looked on in amusement.

"Something wrong, Tom?" The boy grimaced and walked back to the couch, glairing at his book as Hermione stepped out into the hallway next to her role model. "How are you Ms. Granger?"

"I'm fine, thank you Professor." She noticed a school trunk beside him.

"Tell me, Ms. Granger, is the future nice?" he laughed kindly at her startled expression. The girl's mouth hung open and a blush was rising in her cheeks.

"Huh? Umm… a, I… wh- how did you _know_?"

"The time turner around your neck, my dear, is quite an obvious give away." She raised a hand to finger the gold chain resting around her neck. "Don't worry, they've only just been invented, and I doubt anyone other than myself or possibly Prof. Slughorn, who is very well informed, know of its existence." She gave a sigh of relief. "So, why have you come back, my dear, and why are you so keen on spending time with Hogwarts's head boy?"

"The future is not pleasant, sir. You sent me back to make sure that certain _events_ from the future never happen." He raised an eyebrow at the mention of himself.

"So I play a role in the future, how wonderful." She cringed at his cheerful tone. "But was does young Tom have to do with these events, Ms. Granger?"

"He becomes a Dark Lord, one with unmatched power. It is my job in insure that he never becomes such a monster."

"How may I help you on this task?"

"I don't know if you can. The actions I must take are rather…" she searched for words as he looked at her intently, "personal." He nodded in understanding, and then motioned down to the trunk at his feet.

"These are some school things and clothing you may need. I've added some other books that you may find interesting. If you need anything else, just _ask_. However, you will have to trespass on Tom's hospitality a little longer, though I'm sure you won't mind." He winked at her. "Happy holidays, Hermione," he added, before he swept around and turned the corner, leaving her very bewildered. She magicked up her trunk and levitated it through the portrait hole. Then she set it down on the floor and opened the cover, aware that Tom was watching her over his book. On top of the stack of things in the trunk were several sets of the Hogwarts uniforms and robes, all with red and gold stitching.

"How did he know?" she murmured softly, fingering the Gryffindor emblem. Then she pushed the uniforms aside to see several pairs of muggle jeans (which were surprisingly from _her_ time), a few polo shirts, and a denim jacket. They were all fancy muggle designers, and she recognized the logos. She didn't care much for fashion, but admired them just the same. Below them were the standard set of seventh year schoolbooks and assorted school supplies, and then several books she had never seen before. Puzzled, she picked them up and read their covers. A Wizard's Guide To Changing The Future, How To Hoodwink Those Around You, and The Proper Way To Ensnare Your Fancy, all had red velvet covers and thick spines, just how she liked them.

"That man knows everything," she whispered as she picked up the latter and closed the trunk.

The book ended up being the perfect mix of the trashy muggle Cosmopolitan magazine, and the magic/logic filled witch's guide to love potions. Its pages held tips and tricks on how to get your man, with simple spells to help your chances, but nothing to induce love or obsession on the receiver. She bookmarked the Dormier charm, which lulled the receiver, and the Vertonomy spell, which induced a small spell of jealousy. They were all very useful and minor, so that no one but the castor would notice anything different. Making sure that Tom was once again absorbed in his book, she pulled her wand out of her pocket and thought, _tuinteresan_. Then she quickly looked back down at her book and waited for the spell to take action.

It was almost instant. He closed his book and walked slowly over to her, then crouched down to sit beside her.

"Talk to me, Hermione," he asked gently, as she snapped her book shut and turned to face him. A smile, small but still a smile, a _real_ smile graced his face. Not a smirk, not a leer, not the delirious look of joy he had when he killed Harry, a real, slightly lopsided smile. She liked it.

"About what?" he shrugged and leaned back against the trunk.

"It doesn't matter, just talk." She loved this charm. It was simple, it made the one it hit become interested, not infatuated but interested in the caster. They would want to spend time around the person and listen to what they had to say. It was perfect, and gave her a chance to spend time around him, and become more comfortable in his presence, and likewise.

"Tom isn't a good name for you, she said calmly. He didn't look hurt, and nodded vaguely.

"Oh?" he said, listening raptly. She loved the attention he was giving her. Harry and Ron had never really focused on what she said, unless it related directly to them, but he actually listened.

"It's too plain."

"I've got another name," he said casually as she gulped subtly.

"And what's that?" She wondered how much he would tell her.

"Lord Voldemort." Cringing, she tried to figure what to say.

"I don't like that though. It's not a real name." He shrugged.

"But it's different."

"It's too different."

"Well, what do you prefer?" She thought for a while. There _was_ no perfect name for him.

"Clark." He laughed.

"Superman?" She blushed, forgetting he had spent most of his life in a muggle orphanage. "Although that does sound good."

"Maybe not, it's too stiff for you." Tom cracked his knuckles carelessly and realized it was almost lunchtime.

"I'm going to make more sandwiches okay?" She nodded and thought_, Finite Incantantem_. He didn't show any physical change once the spell was lifted. _Well that went well_, she thought, opening her book again to see if there were any other spells she could use. The vibe spell looked promising. It would let the caster pick up the vibes the other person was feeling, such as confusion, hatred, comfort, and love. She whispered, "Emotiousa," and was hit by a sense of confusion. She looked up at Tom curiously, wondering what was confusing him. But she couldn't read minds, so she continued to read, letting his emotions settle around her.

Tom was confused about how Hermione had reacted to the news of his alter ego. It was like she knew of it already, and that disturbed him. Only his so-called "friends" knew of Lord Voldemort, and he didn't want this innocent girl who was messing him up so much to be tainted. But that was another thing, why did he care? It was just some chick that had fallen into his lap, unconscious. And she was a _Gryffindor_!

But there was just something about her that was special, and he really wanted to learn more about her. What she'd told him earlier only gave him more questions, and it was really irritating, knowing he couldn't force the answers out of her. Not only was she skilled at Occlumancy, but also he didn't want to hurt her.

Hermione realized some curiosity was mixed into the confusion vibes she was attracting. Tom handed her a plate and sat back down next to her on the floor. Cheese sandwich on wheat bread with bacon, her favorite. She took a big bite of the sandwich, savoring the taste. During the war she didn't have time to savor simple pleasures like food. Tom loved watching her expression change from curiosity to comfort and relief. He felt happy that he had done something right. And Hermione felt the happiness he radiated. _Finite Incantantem_, she thought to herself.

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**A/N: Long chappie, did you like it? REVIEW! GO ON!**

**Next Time:**

"_Why are you looking at me like that?"_

**Then later:**

"_Sneak around with anyone you want, man, just as long as she isn't a mudblood… or a Gryffindor."_


	5. A Confession

**A/N: I'm so happy with all the feedback I've gotten. So keep reviewing, I better get a lot, seeing as this is another long chapter. And it reveals more of what happened to Hermione before and during the final battle. I'm going on vacation Saturday morning so this will be the last chapter I'll post before I some back a week from today, at least for this story. So enjoy this while it lasts.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

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**Chapter 5: A Confession**

Tom blatantly refused to let her sleep on the couch.

"Stay in my room, I'll take the couch!" he said, ticked off that she wouldn't listen to him like everyone else.

"No, I'll take it. I'm not going to force you out of your room!" She was standing with her hands on her hips in dark red pajamas, which had appeared in her trunk after she wondered out loud what she would wear to bed. He had to admit she looked quite cute, with her hair frizzing around her face, with a flustered expression.

"You're not forcing me out, I'm going willingly!" He was still wearing his clothes from earlier, having not changed yet. Part of the reason he wanted to sleep in the living room was because he wanted to go have a "chat" with his friends in the Slytherin common room, and he didn't want to wake her up. A part of him didn't want her to know of this darker side of him. He didn't know that she already did.

"Why do you care where I sleep?" she asked, feeling stubborn, putting him under the pressure.

"Because I want you to comfortable!" He regretted saying it, actually yelling it, the moment he did it. A stunned look showed him everything he needed to know. Relief, shock, fright. All he'd said was that he wanted her to be comfy, not that he loved her or anything… _Girls take everything too seriously._ "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Um," she bit her lip and backed up to the silver door behind her. "I guess I'll sleep in here, it's not that bad. Well, um, good night Tom!" Then she slunk through the door and snapped it shut behind her, leaving a very confused teen staring after her.

Hermione didn't know why she was freaking out. He wanted her to be comfortable that was all he said. He didn't say he loved her or anything. _Maybe he meant it and just didn't say it? Oh just shut it, Hermione, you're just PMSing!_ So she tried to think of something else as she pulled back the green covers of his bed. But dozing in his bed just made her think of him again. It was all she _could_ think about, and for a minute she thought he might be doing legimins on her. But she was just in denial. Tom was _defiantly_ growing on her.

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He pushed open the portrait of Salazar Slytherin, already thinking of hexes he could use on the troublesome trio. There they were, sitting by the fireplace in the near empty common room. He slammed the painting shut behind him, and they swung around to face him, Rosier still looking troubled.

"What in Merlin's name were you doing this morning!" They didn't respond, only cowered in fear. "If you **ever** go near her again I will **avada** you, I swear!" Tremble tremble.

"I'm sorry my lord!" squeaked Avery.

"And don't call me that?" he added. Hermione definitely had altered the future.

"Why?" asked Nott as Tom did his best not to hex him into oblivion.

"Because!" Tom stalked over to an armchair near them. "What did you two want his morning anyway?" Nott shared a look with Avery before answering.

"Well my lord- Tom, we've learned that the mudblood head bitch from Gryffindor has been sneaking around with a Ravenclaw pureblood! It's a disgrace, I thought that Ravenclaw's were smart!"

"And with a Gryffindor as well! Christ! Those mudbloods need to stay in their _place_!" Tom involuntarily bristled at Nott's comment at the thought of his own heritage, but he didn't stop them. The two boys rambled on as Rosier watched the fire. Tom battled with himself over what path he wanted to take. He could join in with the two boys basing muggleborns or he could get up and walk away to stay with Hermione, who deserved better than racist Slytherins. Once the boys had exhausted the topic Nott rounded on Tom. "So who was the girl, Tom? We never were… properly introduced." Tom scowled; he knew this would come up eventually.

"Does it matter?" He knew that it wouldn't stop them from asking further questions.

"Come on Tom, tell us about your girlfriend," teased Avery, and Rosier snickered softly.

"She's not my bloody girlfriend!" He didn't know why, but he was really pissed. Hermione couldn't be involved in this part of his life, he knew that. There was a part of him that knew she would get hurt, and he didn't want to happen. He was protecting her, and informing to trio of her mystery any further would not be doing so. So he calmed himself and added, "Dippet just wanted me to look after her since I'm head boy." Snicker snicker.

"Then why was she in your bedroom, apparently after emerging from your bed?"

"Because Dippet asked me to let her stay with me. Now back off and stay away from her, okay?" They nodded glumly.

"Sneak around with anyone you want, man, just as long as she isn't a mudblood," said Avery.

"Or a Gryffindor," added Nott. Tom glowered and stomped out of the room.

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As it turned out, Hermione was both a muggleborn and a Gryffindor, as Tom learned the following morning. When he woke up she was pulling strange muggle clothing out of the trunk Dumbledore had given her. He watched as she mumbled about the assorted brands, none of which Tom had ever seen in 1940's muggle London.

"Calvin Klien, to stuck up. Juicy, to many annoying colors. Gap? No, flimsy material. Oh Locoste, I like that color." She pulled a dark blue polo shirt from the trunk as he sat up, cough cough shirtless cough.

"Muggle fashion?" he asked, rubbing his eyes as she pretended not to notice his lack of attire. "I never would have thought…" She gulped and looked back down at the trunk.

"My parents are muggles and my mother is pretty much obsessed with fashion. I've listened to her ranting so much that it finally stuck." He didn't answer, only picked at the blanket he had conjured the previous night. "That doesn't bother you, does it?"

"Why would you think it would? I'm half-blood, my father was a muggle," he spat out the word father and glared at the floor. "A damn bastard, but that's unrelated." Hermione didn't know what to say, other than stutter. He didn't care if she was muggleborn. He didn't _care_. That either meant one of two things, he cared about her, at least as a friend, or she had changed his opinion in general. _He didn't care_! She was making _progress_. "But he's gone now anyway."

"Well, you turned out okay, didn't you?" He looked guiltily at the floor. "Let's get out of here, maybe have a walk in the snow."

"Sure, I'll go change." He stood up, and she was forced to admit that he was in fact, wearing gasp boxers. He ignored her slightly gaping face and returned from his bedroom wearing a worn pair of blue jeans and another black sweater; his hair coifed and gelled into a small wave. She wore the Locoste shirt she had found and a nice pair of black sweat pants, with some really cool black muggle snow boots that resembled pillows molded into shoes. "Moon boots?" he asked with a Malfoy like smirk. She glanced down at the giant shoes and saw they read _Moon Boots_ up the side.

"They'll be good for the snow. I don't think there's a right and left foot, they're like socks." He continued smirking and offered her his arm, which she took. The walk down to the great hall was fairly uneventful, other than an embarrassing run in with Peeves.

"Riddle's got a girlfriend! Riddle's got a girlfriend!" the poltergeist chanted, as Tom began to silently fume, but he didn't let go of her arm. Hermione just glared as the specter did black flips.

"One day, Peeves, I swear you're gonna get it." Peeves giggled and blew a raspberry.

"Tommy doesn't scare old Peevesy, basilisks can't kill the already dead." Hermione froze, but Tom just sent a glare that could freeze the sun at the poltergeist and lead her away. He had calmed down by the time they had reached the great hall. It was only one quarter full, with students scattered among the tables, but Tom didn't want to stay, he saw the troublesome trio snickering behind their hands about him and Hermione. _Probably about her boots as well._ He grabbed a small stack of toast from a platter at the end of the Slytherin table and wrapped it in a napkin. Hermione admired the hall, thinking it would be dumb to act as if she saw it every day. But she had to admit; it was nice to see the room when people weren't dueling on the tables, without lightning flashing and rain thundering down in buckets. Bellatrix wasn't sending hexes out from under the tables, and Ginny wasn't screaming bloody murder as Harry dodged curse after curse from Voldemort. Tom began to walk toward the front doors and when she didn't follow he walked back to her. Seeing the nervous frown on her face he laid his hand on her arm. Startled, she jerked her head back to him, emerging from her thoughts. Ironically relieved that it wasn't another death eater pulling on her arm, she smiled and let him lead her out of the room and onto the snow covered grounds.

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It was beautiful. Snow blanketed the grounds and the lake was covered by thick ice, as well frosted over with flakes. The gamekeeper's hut was dripping with icicles and had small puffs of smoke being emitted by the chimney. A few lone students were having a snowball fight by the green houses, and owls were flying sleepily around the owlry (A/N: sp?). The setting was peaceful as her and Tom walked around the lake, quietly munching on their toast. But the flashbacks, oh the flashbacks were terrible.

The pain and the loss that had been numb (when she wasn't crying that was) the previous day was back, and was suddenly much more real. They were gone. And being near where they had perished was too much, but she didn't cry. She had to be strong. The more she would think about it, the harder it would be to trust the teen walking beside her. Hugging her coat around her, she breathed the chill in deep, and subtly stepped a little closer to him. He wasn't that bad, and his eyes, though haunted and cold, were not the fire red she had seen in her present.

A sob from across the grounds jerked her out of her thoughts. Whirling around, she saw a figure in red apparate just beyond the gates of Hogwarts. The figure crumpled, and kneeled on the snow-covered grounds. Tom had already begun running to the person, and Hermione was right behind him. It was a girl, with brown hair that ended around her shoulders and a rosy glow on her cheeks. But this girl didn't look all that cheery. Tears streamed down her cheeks in glistening ribbons and she looked exactly how Hermione felt. The girl glared at Tom, flakes of snow getting stuck on her wet face, as Hermione did her best to regain her breath.

"Minella," Tom said as a greeting as the girl took several racked breaths. "What happened?" She pulled what appeared to be a red dressing gown over a pair of blue pajama bottoms and a tank top, shivering from the cold and pure terror.

"Grindelwald… supporters… imperious… parents… Gabriel… destruction." She shuddered, sobbed again, and stood up, shakily on her feet. "Must see Dippet… Gabriel, Kristyn, danger." She lost her balance but Hermione caught her and supported her shoulders.

"Tom, come here and hold her other shoulder." He wrapped his arm just below her shoulders as did Hermione and they pulled her to her feet. With their support she walked out of the snow and into the great hall. The few students that loitered there looked on curiously as Tom and Hermione helped her across the room to a staircase that led to the headmaster's office. Halfway there the girl had stopped crying, but still couldn't walk on her own.

"I think I twisted my ankle," she said, still leaning on her as they continued on their way. Her face was twisted with pain as she stepped gingerly on her foot. It was indeed twisted and she yelped, picking it up off the floor.

"You should go to the hospital wing," Hermione ventured, still confused at the situation, adding dates up in her head. December 1994… Grindelwald had already been defeated, so how had this girl been attacked?

"No, I need to see Professor Dippet!" Tom and the girl continued on as Hermione lagged behind, struggling to remember random facts. Minella… where had she heard that name before? "Peace for all," the girl spat to the gargoyle, and Tom and Hermione stepped onto the stairs, their breath hoarse from the trip and the girl's from obvious stress. He knocked on the door and Dippet called, "Come in!"

When he saw the state of his head boy supporting the injured girl he ushered them into chairs, the biggest of which Tom lowered her into slowly, before sitting down himself.

"Miss Minella! What on earth has happened?" _ Perry Minella the famous writer? Hermione thought as she slid into a chair on Tom's other side. It must be, head girl and muggle/wizard relationship activist. Targeted by Grindelwald' supporters after his downfall and was killed- oh… _She was vaguely aware of the professor handing her tea, which she took and drank before registering what it was. _She published her first and only book during her seventh year and was killed shortly after graduation. Her parents were killed by her boyfriend, who had been imperioused at the time, during her seventh year…_ she looked at the girl, who was glaring at the headmaster, who hadn't sat down.

"Professor Dippet, this is **very important!**" He sat down behind his desk and peered over his cup at her pleasantly. _Foolish man, just because your war is over doesn't mean it's safe,_ Hermione thought, fighting the urge to snap at him. Tom looked vacantly around the office, in some ways reminding her of the late Luna Lovegood.

"Well continue my dear."

"My parents were just attacked and killed by Grindelwald's supporters, you've got to help me, they've got Gabriel, you've got to do something! Get Dumbledore, get the ministry!" She had started to cry again and Dippet jumped up, alarmed.

"You should have said so!" He turned to the portraits that lined the walls, which Hermione had not noticed upon entering the room, not that she was interested. "Plymote, Maglis, I trust you heard that. Go alert the minister! Tell him to send aurors to Miss Minella's home! Tom, go fetch Dumbledore, and then escort Miss Granger to your rooms, it would be best not to involve you two for your own safety." Tom nodded as Perry crumpled in her chair, weeping openly. Hermione stood up as did Tom, and followed him out of the office onto the stairway, without looking back. This brought back memories of being told her parents had been killed.

McGonagall had called her into her office and said that her parents had been tortured and murdered by Peter Pettigrew, in hopes that it would drive Harry over the edge. It had worked, Harry had been furious, livid, and raging mad and had grabbed his broom to go off and confront Voldemort once and for all, but having not yet destroyed all of his Horcruxes, Voldemort had escaped easily and apparated to Hogsmead, with several death eaters in tow. Harry followed, and engaged in an hour-long duel, draining himself of all energy as Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and all other order members battled the death eaters. McGonagall evacuated all students, though she left Luna and the four, since they were the most trained and order members. The light side had been picked off one by one as Hermione fought Bellatrix, hit by an occasional hex from someone else's battle. She had watched Luna, Ron, and Ginny fall as Harry got more upset and more reckless. Finally everyone had fallen and the death eaters ganged up on her. One of Harry's reflected stunners had hit her, just after the curse had been said, just after she had seen the glint of red in his eye, just after her friend's body had fallen. The death eaters had believed her dead. In a way, she was.

She had woken up sprawled in the snow, surrounded in the snow just as the sun sliced through the darkness of night. It looked as if everyone every one was asleep; the only signs of a battle were the pools of blood around the corpses. She pulled herself to her feet, stumbling and falling often as she struggled to enter the castle, stepping over her fallen friends and enemies alike. The castle was the same graveyard, but any property had been restored, all chairs pushed under the tables. There were still more bodies, even of students who had gotten lost in the terror. Staggering through the halls she had realized she was the _only_ living thing in the building. Paintings were empty, and she assumed their occupants had escaped to others away from the battle. But the headmaster's office was full of yelling, arguing, and weeping portraits. It had stopped when she had entered the room. In fear, the past headmasters had fled to their other paintings, and Dumbledore had alone stayed. He was so _hurt_ and so _full_ of disappointment. But he had brightened, slightly, to see her fall in front of his portrait.

"You're alive," he had said as she sat against the wall below him. She basked in the silence. "Is there any body else?" He took her silence as a no. "And Harry is…" More silence. "And so it begins." She did not cry, she did not show her pain. "You must change this Miss Granger."

"Hermione?" Tom pulled her out of her thoughts. She realized that she had stopped walking, and was some ways behind him in the quiet corridor. "Are you okay?" Concern shone in his eyes, and he walked back to her, pale skin flickering in the sunlight. "You look a little sick." She blinked, realizing she had argued with Pansy Parkinson days before in that exact spot.

"I'm fine," she lied. "I think I'm gonna head back to your room. I'm feeling a little queasy. Go on, I can find my way back." He nodded, and she turned away. _I'll find my way back to you, Harry. I'll find my way back._

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A/N: Wow, 9 word pages! New record! Did you like the new chapter? Feeling bad for Hermione? Then I did my job. wink And my apologies to Perry, you'll be happier soon, trust me. Anyway, I'll see you in a week! Oh, a teaser, I almost forgot:

'_I'm panicking, I'm actually panicking!'_

One more before I leave:

"_I thought you couldn't remember?" "I could never forget." "You can _always_ forget."_

Oh, BTW, the next chapter is when things start happening. Oh Perry, you must hate me so much now. Toodles! (MWAHA)


	6. A Panic

**A/N: OK Perry, I apologize that you're not actually in this chapter, but you've got a role in later chapters, you will not be disappointed. And I apologize if I spell your name wrong, last name that is. Anyway, read on my friends. And BTW, Tom is so cute in this chapter. Sigh, he panics.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

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**Chapter Six: A Panic**

Perry Minella was a strong girl, which Tom knew quite well. Seeing her break down like she had that morning was a very rare occurrence, and it almost disturbed him to know that it was even possible. What ever she had experienced was obviously horrible and unimaginable, but for once he wasn't pleased at the thought of a muggleborn getting such treatment. The news that Hermione was a muggleborn had shocked him, and yet made him realize that lineage wasn't everything. He cared for her, and that opinion didn't change when she had spoken of her parents.

So even though he didn't particularly like Perry, he was still concerned for her well being, and her treatment and the story she had told provided him with a vague idea of what had happened to Hermione. She was shaken, and pulled into the depths of her mind after learning of Perry's misfortune, and Tom was lead to believe that something at least similar had happened to her. "So many lives lost… everything's gone." Had her parents also been murdered? Had her boyfriend, he cringed at the realization that she might have one, too been kidnapped? Would she ever tell him the full story?

She was not in the head's common room when he returned from the headmaster's office. Possible places where she could be leapt through his mind, each more outrageous then the last. _I'm panicking_, he realized. _I'm actually panicking_! He tore through his rooms, looking for the brown hair sticking out of a corner. _Think Hermione, umm… bookworm. She must have found the library!_ So he closed and locked his bedroom door and sped out the door, marveling about how much he cared. _You fool, calm down,_ he thought as he sprinted past a group of Hufflepuffs, who were looking at him curiously. _You're ruining your reputation_! But he didn't care about Voldemort, he didn't care about the heir of Slytherin, he didn't care about the ring digging into his finger. The only thought he considered was Hermione: what would happen if she were hurt, how it would be his fault. _Why do I care?_ He asked himself as he jumped a flight of stairs. _What is this feeling?_ There was no point pretending, he knew what it was: love. Such a cliché, but that's what it was. This girl had come into his life, angered his friends, and made him doubt everything he believed in. Why? Because she was unlike anyone he had ever met. And he loved her. And now he was panicking.

She was leaning against a bookcase reading a thick book about memory distortion when he found her. She was his polar opposite, calm and collected.

"Merlin, Hermione, don't run off like that," he panted, resting his hands on his knees. She started, looking up from the heavy tomb to see him gasping for air, jelled hair fairly lopsided.

"Sorry Tom, I just wanted to check something." She stood up and clutched the book tightly to her chest. "Can I take this out under your name? I don't know if I'm in the system yet." He nodded and followed her out to the librarian's desk. They checked out the book in silence, as Tom argued with himself about weather he liked this new emotion. He wondered if Hermione loved him back, if she had ever loved before. He hoped he would not be learning about unrequited love as well in the near future. She shouldn't love him, though. He wasn't good enough for her. He was a murderer, and he had done it out of anger and sport, based on false beliefs. He really was a Gaunt, a hypocrite who didn't understand the feelings of others. Yes, he knew all about his mother's use of a love potion, the result of memory stealing and gossip collecting. He was probably the only one who knew of his mother's plan, but he wasn't planning on sharing. His parent's "relationship" was based on obsession, and he was a product of deceit and lies. He wasn't supposed to love.

Hermione read her book as they walked back to their rooms. She didn't want to forget her job, but she couldn't stop thinking of the glint of red in Voldemort's eye as he killed Harry. She didn't want to see it every time she looked at Tom. Tom _was_ a murderer, but she still saw a glimmer of hope in him. He was already changing, and he cared about her. _What about Myrtle?_ The glint asked her as Tom held a door open for her. _Should she have died?_ No, but he didn't understand. _You keep telling yourself that, Granger. But what about his father, or his grandparents? Did they deserve to die?_ The glint sounded remarkably like Malfoy. There was no way to justify what he had done. Tom smiled at her as she sat down on the couch in the head's common room. He sat down next to her, and looked curiously at the book clutched to her chest.

"What did you get?" There was no glint in his eye, no disfigured grin on his face. In fact, there was a new expression on his face, one that she had never seen there before. Could it be? But… did he love her?

"Something to help me forget." The familiar feel of dust and slightly grimy old books under her fingertips was comfortable. All she needed was a calm fire and Ron and Harry playing chess and she could be back in the Gryffindor common room.

"What do you need to forget?" he asked, doing his best not to pry too far. "I thought you couldn't remember." She looked up from the yellowed pages of the tomb. He really _was_ handsome. She never thought she could fall for the bad boy.

"I could never forget." They were much to close; she could see every eyelash curling above his black pupils.

"You can always forget." He was right. The glint was pushed to the back of her mind as she leant into him. She had a _real_ first kiss, ignoring the thoughts of Ron. It felt right as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, smiling through the kiss. They both needed this, the closeness, the support. Tom had never had it, and Hermione had never wanted it. But now they both shared it, and it made all the difference.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

"When are you going to tell me what happened, Mione?" Tom asked quietly, later on that day. She was leaning against his chest, still on the sofa, reading the book. She had been expecting this. It had probably been annoying him for a while.

"When I can tell myself what happened." He sighed, and she closed the book, letting it drop to the floor with a soft thud. "Relax Tom, I'll tell you when I'm ready." He softened and pulled her closer to him, so that they lay side by side on the Slytherin colored couch.

"Of course," he said with a small smile before giving her a quick kiss on the lips. She giggled as he brushed a stray lock of messy hair out of her eyes. "You're so beautiful, Mione," he whispered softly. "How could anyone hurt you?" She winced as he said the ironic words, thanking Merlin that the question was rhetorical. She was beginning to hate irony. It was just too cruel. (A/N: Shout out to Kili of the Forest, you've got to love the irony!)

"You will never hurt me?" she said, sounding insecure, but if he answered the way she thought he would, then her job was almost over. Being the observer that he was, he noticed her nerves.

"Never." She thanked him with passionate lip-lock. She rolled on top of him, really warming up to the idea of making out. She had always scorned Won Won and Lav Lav for their irksome habit of smooching every second of the day, but now that she experienced it, with someone who meant something to her, in some weird unexplainable way at least, she realized she quite liked it. Well, she loved it actually, and she couldn't help but wonder how she had lasted 17 years without it. Contrary to popular belief, she hadn't ever made out with Krum in her fourth year, and during the short time she was with Ron before the final battle they hadn't done much more than kiss.

Ron- the thought of him made guilt surge through her. What would he say, what would Harry say, if they could see her now? Disappointment and revulsion from Harry, most likely. Anger and jealousy from Ron, with possible attempts at murder… (A/N: Shout out to my Stop Calling Me Malfoy fans!) She sunk into Tom, relishing in how unlike her this was. _But the old you died along with Harry and Ron, didn't it? There's a new Hermione Granger now, isn't there?_ She needed to breathe but she couldn't bring herself to pull away.

It was like fire, this kiss, and she would focus on it. In this world she had no pressures placed on her. Sure, there was that whole "Seduce-Voldemort-or-innocent-lives-will-be-lost" thing, but there was no one here to make sure she did. There was no one to copy her notes during class, no one's homework to look over as well as her own. She was free in the forties… and also kind of sluttish. Not that anyone was watching…

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**A/N: Not that anyone was watching LOL! Oh wait, I can't be sarcastic about that yet since you haven't read that part. Oops. Anyway… Shout outs to all my reviewers! wannabe-hermione, Kichou, AidenShadowBreeze, san01, rinkurocks, Elizabeth Tavington, Mrs Pierre Bouvier, Limit, Silver Vampire of the Shadows, LadyDanielle, Kili of the Forest, WoodCrazy, RavenxBeauty, lutra33, and PeskyPixiePicsaPotter. I think that's everyone. Anyway, thanks a bunch. It was so nice to see a full inbox when I came home from vacation. Teaser?**

"_You know what, I can't do this. I need to be honest with you," she said, pulling herself away from him._

**Then, in the next chapter:**

"_It wasn't Griniwald who killed your friend, was it?"_

**Anyway, I'll update later. And please go read A Well-Kept Secret! PLEASE!**


	7. An Introduction

**A/N: You guys rule, thank you for the feedback! It's really awesome to have so many reviews in such a short time! You ROCK! Anyway, in this chapter we get to know Perry Minella a little better, that sounded really dumb, my apologies Perry, Dumbledore does some snooping, and Hermione lets a little bit of information slip. And just a warning, I don't know Rosier's first name, so just deal with it when I pretend that he has no first name. So let the games begin!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

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**Chapter Seven: An Introduction**

Rosier was beyond pissed. His powerful, cunning, oh-so-wonderful Lord had fallen for a girl, and had turned his back on his followers. Well, he wasn't going to let some two bit mousy brown bitch ruin _his_ chance for power. _He_ would be the next Dark Lord instead. And there would _be no_ chick in his way. _But how?_ He asked himself. How can I take over? First he'd get his revenge on the bimbo who ruined Plan A. That's what he would do…

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Perry Minella knew something odd was going on when he entered the head's common room. First of all, there were the muffled giggles coming from the other side of the couch by the fire, that was new. And second, the red and gold trunk sitting by Riddle's door looked wildly out of place. She cleared her throat, and watched, amused, as a startled girl slid off the sofa and onto the floor with a thud. Riddle sat up and turned around, relieved to see it was the well-mannered head girl who had interrupted his very first make-out session and not his death eaters. The girl who had helped her to the head master's office stood up, looking rather flustered. Perry couldn't blame her.

"I don't believe we've met," stated Perry plainly, as Hermione peered at the calm figure. "I'm Perry, Perry Minella." Hermione nodded as she wondered why she was so peaceful. _Duh, calming drought!_ She had received one as well after Harry had run off. _My, that seems years ago_. Why couldn't she have been fed poison instead?

"I'm Hermione Granger," she said, doing her best to regain whatever shred of self-respect she still had. Tom stood up shyly and stood next to her, across from the sleepy looking teen. Perry realized exactly what she had walked in on and picked up on the awkward situation, as Hermione remembered how she had felt after she had learnt of her parent's death. She had stood in that exact spot, staring blankly at the unaware Ron and Harry, wishing she didn't have to tell them of their murder. That had been _her_. A lump was form in the back of her throat.

"I'm just going to go take a nap. Stressful day, you know?" Perry said, before escaping abruptly into her room. Tom and Hermione stood and froze, a little lost for words at her sudden disappearance.

"That's kind of the understatement of the century, wouldn't you say?" Tom stated, half sarcastic half amused, as Hermione sunk down onto the sofa, feeling a little dazed. Tom looked down at her, feeling a little lost as well. "Mione, are you okay?" She didn't answer, only picked up her forgotten book carefully from the floor and resumed reading it. He sighed and sat down next to her. "Accio school bag," he said calmly, as his book bag gently glided out of his open bedroom door and hovered noiselessly by his knees. He pulled out a Potion's textbook and started to do his homework.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

Cackling softly, the fire in the fireplace beside Dumbledore's armchair provided light so the professor could examine the crystal ball. A graceful phoenix rested beside the misty orb, gazing peacefully at its gleaming surface. The professor twirled his copper tinted beard between his fingers, and watched as flickers of color spread in webs in the ball. He glanced down at the Divination textbook open in his lap and sighed in frustration.

"Purple confusion and questions, blue loss and despair, pink love and passion. Fawkes, what does that mean?" The bird cooed, in a way plainly saying, _I don't know, I'm a bird!_ They turned back to the murky spear. "Divination is useless," muttered the man as he searched the ball for more. "The sun, hope. The moon, battle. Orange, a hero." He gave up, unable to see more. Rubbing his eyes sleepily, he mumbled, "So there's darkness coming but a hero will appear, bringing hope. But who is the hero? Confusion, loss, passion. Ah, Miss Granger and Mr. Riddle must be the passion, I knew she was here for a good reason." He took a sip of tea from a china cup next to the orb. "Yes, the loss must refer to Ms. Granger as well, and how she came here, possibly what happened before hand. And the passion no doubt refers to Mr. Riddle, he looked pretty different, and he _is_ protective of her." When no further symbols appeared in the crystal, the confused and annoyed professor called it a night. He didn't see the flickering image of a mirror appear in the glass, the symbol for role reversal.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

By dinner Tom had finished all of his vacation homework, and Hermione had yet to say anything. She was still curled up in a ball on the couch with the book and inch from her nose. She looked peaceful and comfortable for once, and though her was getting hungry, he couldn't bring himself to interrupt. So he settled on the other couch, which was, to his disgust, red and gold, and watched her as she read.

She was in her element, anyone could see that. Focused and silent, she turned a yellowed page and a wisp of wavy hair fell into her eyes, hanging content across her cheek. She didn't notice. He watched as she scanned the page quickly, pulling in the information as if with a magnet, before turning the page again. Isolation and confusion had drawn Tom away from other people, and he had never witnessed this type of comfort and peace before. There was something about this girl, so wrapped in learning and sanctuary, that pulled him out of his little hole. As much as he understood how Hermione wanted some quiet time, he wanted to be close to her again, so he quietly stood up, stretched his arms above his head, and quietly settled down next to her. She didn't seem to notice, so he gently pulled her over to him and wrapped his arms around her stomach, so that her head lent into the crook between his neck and his shoulder. She purred, and folded other the corner of her page, before pushing the book further down the couch and closing her eyes.

_We're like an old couple_, she pondered, zoning out as Tom's breathing oriented to her own. The logic of the situation plagued her, but she ignored it. _I deserve to be happy!_ She snuggled further into him, appreciating the closeness and the comfortable silence. It was amazing to be so relaxed, she hadn't felt this way for years, before Voldemort returned. She could still remember the hundreds of sleepless nights, the obituaries that took up a full page of the paper, the screaming of the students as he strutted through the gates. It had been such an image, with the wall of death eaters behind him, Harry standing alone in the snow with the approaching death eaters cackling. She had watched from the astronomy with her head badge shimmering in a greenish glow as the dark mark rose in the air, a student killed by Bellatrix for entertainment. Ron had rushed down to fight at Harry's side, but Hermione had frozen and watched from the empty tower as the complete order rushed through the gates, and so the battle had begun.

She unfroze as more screams of pain filled the grounds, and she ran down to join in. Bellatrix had followed her out into the snow, and they dueled as the battle continued. For hours it seemed she flung hex after hex after hex after curse after curse at the woman, while everyone did the same. She didn't know why she had lasted so long (Hermione, not Bellatrix) or why the only curse that would stun her was her own friends, but as scarred, bruised, and bloodied as she got, she did not fall. It was like she wasn't supposed to die, because she had to be here… with him.

"You know what, I can't do this," she said, pulling herself off of him to stand facing him. He blinked, as she set her face into a determined expression. His hair was ruffled in places, and the gel made little spikes stick up randomly. He resembled Harry in some ways. "I need to be honest with you." She began to pace back and forth in front of him, and he did his best to regain his composure. "Now, I can't tell you everything, but I need to tell you what happened before I came here." He blinked again and sat up stiffly, smoothing out his hair with his palm. "My school was attacked, and my friends were killed," she stammered, her voice cracking and sharp. He didn't say anything and let her continue, this was hard for her.

"Wait no, let me start over." She rattled her head back and forth, trying to find words. "My parents were killed by this Dark Lord, and my friend Harry went to get revenge." Tom gulped, feeling guilty at the mention of a Dark Lord. He had wanted to be a Dark Lord, but _not_ anymore. "He couldn't defeat him, so he Apparated back to our school and this Dark Lord followed him with his supporters. They attacked everyone." He cringed, he used to dream of doing that months ago, not that he ever would now. "He killed everyone, even innocent first years. And he killed my- my best friends." She was looking quite peaky now, and he was really getting worried. No wonder she was upset and constantly crying, he couldn't believe she wasn't crying now! "And he tried to kill Harry, and he- he did. I was the only one left and- and a reflected stunner hit me. The left me for dead." He stood up and wrapped her in his arms, as she crumpled into his sweater. "I woke up in the graveyard." Her words were muffled, but he heard her. He caught her as she fainted, and heard her mumble in her unconscious state, "Voldemort."

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**A/N: Ooo, big cliffy there! Mwahahaha! SUFFER PERRY! Anyway, next chapter is long, and heavy with emotion. We learn more about Perry (that still sounds so wrong) and we catch up with Rosier again. Oh, and the trust issues run deep. Teaser?**

"_It wasn't Rosier who killed your friend, was it?" he muttered, not looking her in the eye. "Was it?"_

**Then later in the chapter:**

"_Mione?" "Yeah?" "How did you get here? You can trust me."_

**See you all later, and REVIEW PLEASE!**


	8. An Album

**A/N: Wow, you guys totally rock! I've gotten so many reviews for this fan fic, and it's so awesome! I mean, Stop Calling Me Malfoy took forever to get 50 reviews, but everyone has been so good! Keep reviewing! Anyway, read on, my friends, read on. This chapter is _sooo_ long, so it is probably going to take me forever to update. I wouldn't know because I've just started typing.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

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**Chapter 8: An Album**

Tom was once again panicking. Hermione was passed out in his bed, and was blissfully unaware of the turmoil she had caused. He paced in circles around the room and put the pieces together. Her strange muggle clothing, her unexpected knowledge of the Hogwarts library, her reluctance to open up to him, her occasional fear of him at times, her reaction to the trip who had cornered her. She was from the _future_, and she knew all about him! He became the Dark Lord Voldemort, and had killed all her friends and family! He had gone on to ruin her life! The thought made him want to blow something up. He had _sworn_ he would never do that to him! Well, he would change that; he would _never_ hurt her, or anyone else for that matter! He was **not** Voldemort!

_How_ had she come back? _Why_ had she come back? What the _hell_ was he going to do? He couldn't look at her the same, he could only imagine her knocked out, lying in the snow, bruised, battered, and bloody. When he had first seen her she had been wounded badly, and he now realized that _he_ had done that to her. There was no doubt in his mind, he loved her, and he couldn't bare knowing that she had hated him, and could possibly still. Her mystery had expanded now, and he still found himself searching for answers. It was like going one step forward and then two steps back.

She looked like an angel, spread out on his bed, the green covers pulled up over her, covering her so that only her hair and face erupted from the silk. He had slid off her boots and socks with some difficulty, his hands had been shaking, but left on all of her clothing. _Waking up to find Voldemort had taken off your clothes would be more than a little disturbing,_ he had reasoned. So he had pulled back the covers and laid her gently down on the bed, before pulling them back up to her chin. Now he was pacing continuously, waiting for something to happen. She hadn't woken up.

It was well past dinner, but he still wasn't hungry. He used a charm he had learned of in class that filled his stomach and sat on the foot of the bed, leaning against the bedpost that held up his gray canopy. _Should I talk to her about it or just pretend I didn't hear anything?_ He thought, watching as her stomach slowly rose and fell. _It's not like I'll be able to act the same around her._ She coughed, but didn't wake up just yet and he received déjà vu. This was like that first night in the hospital wing, waiting for her to wake up. Except this time he wasn't excited, he was scared. She hadn't judged him yet, and she probably wouldn't know he knew about his path, but he was scared that she would notice the change in him. After all, he knew what it was that she wanted to forget. She wanted to forget him. That Tom understood. He looked down at the floor, ashamed. He wanted to forget so many things…

Hermione sat bolt upright, scaring the stuffing out of poor Tom, who jerked his head up so fast he got a head rush. For a second she forgot she was in the 40s and thought that Zambini had dragged her into his room or something, but then she saw Tom, who was massaging his temples, and everything came speeding back, hitting her like a freight train like it had every other morning. It stung.

"Um… hi?" she said, a little lost for words and way to aware that she was once again waking up in Tom Riddle's bed, with no memory of how she got there. He blinked and scowled at his sheets, still sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed. "Tom?" Does he know? Did he guess? WTF? Strands of his dark hair fell down into his eyes, resembling Draco Malfoy's haircut, since the gel from his hair had made it fairly greasy. "You there?" she added with a nervous laugh.

"It wasn't Grindelwald who killed your friend, was it?" he muttered, not looking her in the eye. She gasped and stammered incoherently, at a loss of what to say. He didn't look up, just continued his staring contest with the silk. "Was it?"

"I- uh… Well- I- um…" She fiddled with the collar of her polo shirt and looked at him nervously. He looked up and glared at her.

"It was me, wasn't it?" His scowl faded into a frown as Hermione sat speechless, wondering how on earth he had known, and what on earth she should tell him. "Did I do this to you?" She took a deep breath and pushed back the bed covers slowly, and crawled down the bed like a cat, to rest on her knees in front of him.

"I don't blame you," she whispered, before extending a hand to push back some of the slick hair from his cold eyes.

"How can you not?" The words hung around her as he subconsciously leaned into her touch.

"Ever since you healed that bruise on my side, I knew you weren't Lord Voldemort." She caressed his cheek with her palm, and pushed his head gently back so she could stare into his eyes. There was no protest as she leaned forward to softly brush her lips against hers. Pulling away she said, "Would I kiss you if you killed my family?" She bent forward again and kissed him, with more passion. Tom let her deepened the kiss and she resuming what she enjoyed most, making out with the teenager who would never be known as Lord Voldemort.

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"Stars, the truth. Ah, it seems Ms. Granger has told Mr. Riddle of her secret, Fawkes." Within the mist of Dumbledore's borrowed crystal ball tiny silver stars could be seen twinkling in unison. The man sucked on a lemon drop as he gazed intensely at the orb in front of him. The mist turned pink as Dumbledore chuckled under his breath. "More passion, I see. Young love, my dear friend."

The man twirled his long ginger bear around his wand absent mindedly as the mist cleared, leaving the ball just an empty glass sphere. "I must say I quite like crystal ball reading, my dear friend. Perhaps Divination is worth study." He reached for his cup of tea, but stopped as an image appeared in the orb. It was hazy and unfocused, but he could make out whom it was. It was the couple, Tom standing protectively in front of Hermione, arms spread so he blocked her from harm. They were both facing a person wearing a long dark robe and a hood, Dumbledore couldn't tell who it was from his position. The figure was in duel stance, but Tom and Hermione seemed defenseless. A jet of green light beamed from the wand, heading towards the girl, but before it made contact, the image faded into the mist.

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By early mourning Perry's calming drought had worn off. She sat in her bedroom at her desk, crying silently as she leafed through a scrapbook her boyfriend Gabriel had made for her. This was absolute misery. Gabriel was missing, probably dead or dying, and yet she couldn't do anything but sit and wait. Dipet had refused to have her help. Her parents were dead, her boyfriend missing, and best friend Kristyn was still on vacation. All she could do was look at their pictures and hope for the best. Everything had turned upside down, it seemed. Her parents, who had always been separate from the world of magic, had been killed by said magic. Her boyfriend, who had always been in control, had been imperioused and kidnapped. And she was powerless as to how she could help at all. Much more disturbing was the fact that when she needed help _Riddle_ was the one to come. Riddle! Muggleborn hating, Gryffindor torturing, antisocial Riddle had helped her in her hour of need. And he had a make-out buddy! WTF was with that? Hermione something. Who would have thought Riddle would get close to a Gryffindor? At least, she was probably a Gryffindor; her trunk's colors were red and gold. But what was a Gryffindor doing with a Slytherin? What was she doing with Tom Riddle, king of Slytherin? Didn't she know?

He must be using her somehow. He didn't have feelings, so he couldn't care about someone else, so he couldn't have a real kiss. Maybe she was rich or had some powerful lineage or something. Well, she would just have to step in. She was head girl after all. No cunning Slytherin could fool her.

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"Mione?" Tom said while she sorted through her trunk for more pjs. She turned, resting on her knees on the black carpet.

"Yeah?" He was picking through the bookcase, facing away from her.

"How did you get here?" _He's testing you to see if you trust him._ Tom turned and met her nervous gaze. A small smile crept across his face. It wasn't mocking, it was encouraging. She was seeing so many new sides of him. She needed a camera. "You can tell me." Sighing, she raised a hand to the back of her neck and slid a finger under the slim chain. Carefully, she slowly pulled the time turner out from under her polo shirt before lowering it onto the fabric. His curiosity peaked and he abandoned the bookcase, crouching down in front of her. The hourglass Prof. Dippet had mentioned that first night sparkled in the weak candlelight. There was nothing he had seen or read about like it. He looked up to her in awe, eyes voicing his question.

"This is a time turner." She let him guide it off of her and pull it closer to him. "Normally you can only go back a couple hours, but I guess it adapted to the situation." Running a finger of the glass, he let all small noise of fascination. "I used it to get here."

"Here as in Hogwarts or here as in 1944?" he asked, still caressing the small object with his long fingers.

"Here as in 1944." He wasn't surprised. "You do understand that I can't tell you more, right?" He nodded, finally looking up. She looked like he had for years, lonely.

"You miss them, don't you?" She didn't need to ask who.

"How could I not?" She entwined her fingers in the gold chain, remembering her other experiences with time travel. Harry hadn't understood at first, but Tom was fast. Surprisingly, he was much more understanding of her privacy (ignoring his use of legimins of course) than either of her friends had been. Rom gently lowered the time turner back over her hair and onto her neck. She guided it back under her frame.

"Tell me about them." He sat down across from her, cross-legged, showing he would listen if she would talk.

"One second." She swiveled to face the trunk and pronounced, "I wonder where I can find pictures of my friends?" It popped open and a photo album she had never seen before rested on top of her assorted clothing. Like most of the other books that had appeared in the trunk, it two had a red cover. She gently picked it up and turned back to the teen behind her, putting it on the floor in front of her. He scooted over and turned the cover to reveal a large picture of Hermione, with bushy hair and buckteeth. It was her first year, and she looked awkward in her Hogwarts uniform. "That must be from my first year." The girl was sitting at a desk glaring in the direction of the photographer over her book.

She turned the page and was greeted by the smiling faces of Harry and Ron, also first year. Harry was so young and untroubled. He didn't know about the prophecy, he didn't know about the horcruxes, and he hadn't seen the death of everyone he loved. He was the image of innocence. And Ron was… Ron. Gawky, freckled, and ginger haired, he looked just as she remembered him. "This is Harry," she murmured, pointing to her lost friend. "And that's Ron." Her finger lingered on his figure. Tom picked up on her reluctance to pull her eyes away.

"He was more than a friend." She nodded slowly. "And Harry was like a brother?" She nodded again. "Keep going, it will make you feel better. The next one displayed Luna, just staring into space while eating dinner at the Ravenclaw table. The people around her laughed and pointed to her famous roaring lion hat. Hermione released a laugh and Tom raised his eyebrow.

"That's Luna. She was fairly strange." The hat growled noiselessly and several smaller students fell off the benches around her. "I forgot it did that."

"Keep going." The next one was of the golden trio in second year after the mandrakes had been given out. They were happy, close knit, and not yet plagued by the curse of puberty. She realized that Harry had recently met Tom, and she could see the fear and vulnerability in his eyes. The trio in the picture sat catching up in the hospital wing and she also realized that even at the age of twelve, almost thirteen, Harry was loosing his childhood. "Second year?" She nodded. "Keep going." After that was Ginny, staying with the over stressed exhausted Hermione, who was once again cramming. Ginny sat next to her, while Harry and Ron glared at her from the other side of the common room, third year.

"That's Ginny."

"Keep going." The fourth year snapshot was of her and Ron fighting at the Yule Ball. Ron gestured wildly as her hair fell out of its elegant bun. A tear fell to the floor of the great hall as Ron stormed off, and a real tear fell onto the picture. "Keep going." Another fourth year, Hermione screaming as Harry appeared in the center of the maze clinging to Cedric's body. She stood forgotten as the people around her rushed to help. "Keep going." Fifth year, Harry screaming his lungs out at her and Ron. "Keep going." Another fifth year, Hermione falling in the Department of Mysteries. "Keep going." Sixth year, Hermione sending a flock of birds at Ron. "Keep going." Seventh year at Bill and Fleur's wedding, Hermione finally kissing Ron, but looking empty and confused. More tears were coming now, and she knew what was left. "Keep going." Seventh year, her cowering in McGonagall's office. "Keep going." Standing with Ron on the astronomy tower, waiting, praying for Harry to return. "Keep going." Watching as Ron fell, Harry fell, before falling herself. There were no pictures left. "You have to keep going, Hermione, just keep going."

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**A/N: So Hermione came clean. Comments? She really has been through a lot. Well, at least Tom kind of knows what she's going through. But now he has to come to terms with the fact that she has a whole life he isn't part of. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge. And Perry, you do have a bigger part in the next chapter. Teaser?  
**

"_You should go back home, back to Ron," he spat bitterly. "You love him, don't you?"_

**Then later:**

"_She tried to turn you against me, didn't she?" "A little paranoid, Mr. Riddle?" "Just answer the damn question, Hermione."_

**All right, you better get off your butts and review now. And read A Well-Kept Secret. I promise you'll like it!**


	9. A Warning

**A/N: You all love this story, right? Well here's another good chapter, with Tom being a paranoid ass. But we all love the paranoid ass, right? Anyway, I'll just start.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

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**Chapter Nine: A Warning**

She nodded off crying on his shoulder. He was amazed. The album was like a slideshow of her life. He knew much more than he had before, about her friends, about her past, about his future. He didn't want to think about that though. But Hermione had a life she had left behind. She had first love, a boyfriend, and friends who she had to go back to. She was no longer a mystery, and yet he still yearned to know her better.

He picked her up carefully and carried her once again into his bedroom. This was becoming a pattern. She didn't wake up as he lowered her onto the silk sheets, and tucked her in gently. Like he had before, he gave her a soft kiss on the forehead and stepped back. Tom found a pair of cotton black pajama pants to change into, and he crept into his private bathroom to freshen up. When he came back into the bedroom she was apparently still asleep, but as he reached the door she rasped, "Wait."

"Yes?" He answered, turning to face her. Her eyes were closed, and for a second he thought he might have imagined it.

"Stay with me, please," she whispered, shifting so half the large bed was empty. He faltered, but tiptoed to the side and hesitantly lowered himself next to her, getting below the comforter but not the sheet. "Thank you." Shifting so she was closer and she could feel his warmth she added, "for everything." He leaned onto his side and watched her stomach rise and fall.

"What have I done?"

"You've been supportive." Her eyes fluttered open and met his gaze, as she twisted to face him. "Most people wouldn't do what you've done for me." She unearthed a hand from under the mounds of silk to brush back some hair from his eyes. The hand didn't move and she caressed his cheek. "You really are amazing, Tom Riddle. Just don't loose faith in yourself." He grasped her hand and kissed her palm shamelessly. "I'm guessing now you know why I'm here." She pulled her hand back.

"I think so." He closed his eyes. "I'm not becoming Voldemort, Mione. That's not me anymore." She shifted again. "I guess you can go home now."

"I don't just want to pack up and leave, Tom. And what about Perry? I feel like I need to help her."

"You should go back home, back to Ron," he spat bitterly, rolling away from her. "You love him, don't you?" She gasped.

"Didn't you see how miserable I was in that picture? I deeply care about Ron, but there's no _passion_ there! Its not like-" she stopped abruptly. "It's not like _us_." Tom burrowed into his pillow.

"But you're just doing your job, you're just saving the world."

"I'm doing this because I _care_ about you. I understand that you've never had this before, but you have to believe me when I say I'm not using you." Cautiously, the boy rolled back over, hair once again falling into his onyx eyes. "I'm really falling for you Tom." Deciding it was the best thing to do, she slowly snuggled a little closer to him and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. He didn't back away, and instead readily slid his tongue into her mouth. Giggle against his lips, she pulled away, leaving him flustered. "You need to come with me when I go back."

"Really?"

"Yeah. We'll both be of age, and if it's okay with you we could get a flat somewhere. I could train to be a healer like I wanted, and you can work at the ministry or at Hogwarts or something." He nodded.

"I'd love to teach-"

"DADA, I know. When Dumbledore didn't offer you the position you cursed it so no one could hold it for over a year." He groaned.

"That sounds like something I would do." She laughed and kissed him again. It deepened quickly and he carefully rolled on top of her. Yes, she had defiantly learned something on this time travel trip: making out was fun, especially with the tall, dark, and handsome Tom Riddle.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

The next morning Hermione once again woke up first. He looked so innocent and juvenile sprawled across the mattress, his hair falling into his eyes like Harry's used to and would again. She sat up slowly so as not to wake him, before creeping into the bathroom to shower and change. As her eyes adjusted to the winter sunlight beaming through the windows, she realized she was beginning to appreciate the colors green and silver, although she'd never admit it.

He woke up to the sound of water running. It was just Hermione in the shower, but her had to stifle the new urge to burst into the bathroom. That was new; he had never really been attracted to anyone. Fortunately, he had a great deal of self-control, and resisted the pull to fling open the door. His wand sat on the bedside table, and he gripped it his fingers as he coaxed himself out of the warm bed. Not feeling in the mood to hand pick out an outfit, he pointed his wand to himself and whispered, "Dress me." Stumbling sleepily to the mirror, he found he was wearing a pair of black cargo pants and a faded bray button down shirt over a white undershirt. _You've got to love that spell,_ he thought as he shaped his hair with one flick of his wand. Tom was by no means vain, he just liked feeling in charge of every situation, and part of that was looking good. Well, there was the kick he got out of making Hermione blush. Proud of his appearance, he tucked his wand into one of his pockets and entered the common room. Perry was apparently still in her room, but he didn't think much of it.

The photo album from the previous night lay abandoned on the carpet, so he lent over to pick it up. Settling down on the couch, it fell open on his lap to what seemed to be a new page in the back. Hunching over to see what it was, Tom saw that it was a portrait of him. He was still asleep and it seemed to have been taken the previous night. His hair tumbled onto the pillow, and his lips were moving. The real Tom squirmed. He had forgotten he talked in his sleep. The children at the orphanage had always steered clear of his bedroom while he slept, saying that "weird things" had happened, or something to that degree. Now Tom knew that he must have been mumbling spells without knowing it. As a young kid he had always been able to do the impossible. He was a wizard after all, and a gifted one at that. Between his lineage, skill, and handsome face, he had the world at his fingertips. Yet ever since Hermione had entered the picture, he didn't know what to do with it.

The water stopped running and he flipped back through the album. If he did go back with her, what would he do? He wouldn't be leaving behind any family or friends, but it still made him feel nervous and alone. He was beginning to depend on Hermione for company, and she was the first person to understand what he was conveying without him saying it. But if he followed her back to her time, then he wouldn't have her all to himself. And what about that boyfriend? From what he could see from the album, they hadn't broken up before his murder. Would she leave him when she saw Ron again? He wouldn't be able to take it! What if her friends didn't like him? They were very close to her, and could probably turn her against him with ease. "He's a Slytherin," they could say. "He's bad news, and he could be using you. He's up to something." But he wasn't up to anything! This was just his last desperate attempt to have a family, to feel cared about. She did care about him, she had said so, but did she love him? He wasn't going to deny that he loved her. The bedroom door clicked open and Tom pulled his eyes away from the snapshot of Hermione kissing Ron at Bill and Fleur's wedding. The real Hermione wore a simple knee length gray skirt with a plain red t-shirt. She looked radiant in anything, but the red accented her well.

"Morning," she said, walking over to sit down next to him on the couch. Upon seeing the page he was turned to she frowned. "How can I convince you that I don't have feelings for Ron?" He snapped the book shut and grimaced. "I'm not going to run back to him. He was a crap boyfriend. I think he was cheating on me."

"Why would he cheat on you? You have everything!" he exclaimed. She sighed and lay back on the sofa, putting her feet up in his lap.

"Who cares? It wasn't a heart breaking realization anyway. Dating him was like dating a cousin. I knew him too well. And he was meant to be with Lavender as well. Won Won and Lav Lav will probably be together by the time I get back." He quirked an eyebrow. "Don't look at _me_ that way! I didn't invent those retched names." He relaxed and realized she was right. At least one of his fears was irrational. "What's the date?"

"Judging from how late we went to sleep, I'm guessing it's late afternoon December 23." She blinked and sat up.

"Tomorrow's Christmas Eve." It was. What a depressing holiday it would be. "I wonder where I can get some pictures from past Christmases," she whispered, and the book in Tom's lap grew several inches thicker. Wordlessly, he handed her the album, and she snuggled against him before turning to the first page.

The picture held an explosion of color, mainly red. It was her, Harry, and the Weasley's during sixth year, complete with Fleur Delacour belittling the radio station. The snapshot Hermione was wedged between George and Ron, the latter was gaping at the French whiner. Tom scoffed, just like she'd expected him to. "I told you he was a crap boyfriend."

"Were you going out then?" She watched as Harry sat down next to Ginny, looking flushed as usual. They were such a cute couple.

"No. I had another good five months of freedom left at that point." Remus read a book by the fire next to Tonks, and Mr. Weasely was fiddling with a muggle plug. "We're such an odd group," she told him, as Tonks knocked over a water jug that had been resting in front of her on the coffee table. "I'm sure you'll fit right it."

"Are you calling me odd?" he asked, teasing her. She smirked a very Slytherin smirk at him before turning the page.

"Well, you are quite odd, Lord Voldy-thing. Are you denying that you're a parsletongue and that you're Heir of Slytherin?" He paled considerably.

"How'd you know that?"

"That is for me to know and for you never to find out." She looked back at the album to find her fifth year self standing in a doorway next to Sirius, a fowl look on her face. She had always liked Sirius, he had complemented her after all, but at that particular moment they were standing under mistletoe, at which Sirius was beaming like a mad man. Thankfully, they were alone in the hallway at the Noble House of Black, so when she stood on tiptoes to kiss him quickly on the cheek, no one was there to see him scooping her up to kiss her on the lips. When he set her down again on the ground she ran off, blushing furiously, as he laughed his ass off and turned around to enter his bedroom. "No one was supposed to find out about that," the real Hermione rasped as Tom inherited her smirk.

"Your secret's safe with me, Mione. Now we're even," he drawled before kissing her on the cheek.

"I'm so sure. Once you meet Harry you'll probably spill and tell him how I kissed his _god_father, ew!" He laughed, as a small cough alerted them they were not alone. They looked up to see Perry, framed in the doorway, with a funny look on her face.

"Um," she said awkwardly. "Good afternoon Riddle, and… Hermione was it?" She nodded and noticed her calming drought had faded. There was an obvious amount of sadness in her tone, though Hermione had expected that. "Well, hi." Tom blinked at her, not really knowing what to say.

"Hello Perry, feeling better?" Hermione asked cautiously. When someone had been through such an ordeal anything could set her off, so she had to choose her words wisely. Thankfully, Perry only nodded, still looking at Tom who had looked back down at the album.

"Yeah. Um, could I talk to you for a second, Hermione?" She looked at Tom, and he nodded with an uneasy smile, pulling the book off her lap so she could stand.

"Of course, lead the way." Perry stood aside so the teen could pass her and enter the red and gold bedroom. It was identical to her old room, and the bookcase was crammed, just as hers had been. She felt at home among the familiar colors and setting. A small white kitten was curled up on the foot of the bed, and Perry sat down next to it and stroked its milky fur. Hermione sat down at the desk while wondering what her new acquaintance wanted to discuss in private.

"Look, I'm just going to start," Perry started, still rubbing the belly of the purring cat, who's red and gold striped collar read _Yvonne_. "I don't know you very well and I apologize for prying into your private business, but I just want to warn you about Riddle. It just strikes me as odd that he's playing house with a Gryffindor who's just popped out of no where." Hermione felt a smile tug the corners of her lips upward.

"Don't worry, I know exactly what I'm doing, though I appreciate the warning." Perry looked up suspiciously, her hair falling into her sad eyes.

"Don't underestimate him. He's like the _Prince_ of Slytherin. Weird things happen around him. Anything he does benefits him somehow. Is there anything major he could gain from you? Powerful lineage, wealthy family perhaps?" Hermione averted her eyes, shaking her head.

"I'm a broke orphan who has no friends. All I can offer him is understanding." Perry bit her lip and scratched Yvonne's ears.

"Sorry, this is just random. Everything's upside down now, that's all." She sighed.

"I know what you mean. When I lost my parents my friends flipped out and caused a lot of trouble," Hermione responded calmly. Perry looked up from the purring cat, surprised to have someone understand. "If you ever need to talk I'm right next door," she added.

"Thank you. And just promise me that you'll watch your back, okay? He makes me nervous."

"Of course. I'll talk to you later." She nodded and Hermione left the room to find Tom making more sandwiches. She sat down on the counter next to his cutting board, reveling in the relaxing smell of bacon.

"What was that about?" he asked softly, spreading butter across a slice of bread.

"She just needed someone to talk to." He nodded vaguely.

"She tried to turn you against me, didn't she?"

"A little paranoid, Mr. Riddle?" He dropped the knife on the board and stepped back, scowling at her.

"Just answer the damn question, Hermione." She avoided his piercing stare and stole a piece of bacon from the board.

"Yes, she did." For a second he looked ready to send some hexes, but he took a deep breath and resumed cooking. "You shouldn't worry, Tom."

"Figures, everyone judges and never looks beyond the surface. 'Riddle doesn't have feelings! Riddle only cares about himself. Riddle's out for all he can steal,'" he spat, handing her the finished sandwich. "It just pisses me off."

"You have to admit that for a while that's who you were Tom. You shouldn't blame them for believing the front you put up." She rested a hand on his shoulder. "But they'll see, won't they? They'll see they're wrong soon enough." He sighed, admitting defeat.

"How are you always right, Mione? I've known you for three says, and you haven't been wrong once."

"I'm only right because I've read the last line of the book."

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**A/N: Tom makes you cry, doesn't he? You just want to squeeze him. But he'll be happy very soon! And Perry will learn she's wrong very soon! Sorry you were kind of mean in this chapter Perry, you're in the 12th a lot! Teaser?**

"_Malfoy, long time no see."_

**Don't you love that teaser? Ha, you all must be wondering how Malfoy comes into this. He's dead right? _ Smirk _ I'll see you all later. Tootles! And REVIEW! And read A Well-Kept Secret!**

**Final word count: 2922. (LONG!) **


	10. A Gift

**A/N: Ok, by this point I have gotten 3 reviews for the latest chapter, and it's only been up for 2 hours! You guys ROCK! Anyway, I hope you all love this chappie; it's really funny, at least in my opinion. Well, read on.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it. Come on, if I did would I really be sitting here? If I did own it, I would have paid for plastic surgery to make all of my friends look like Tom, Harry, Ron and Ginny.**

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**Chapter 10: A Gift**

Hermione groaned. Tom was impossible to shop for. She didn't want to buy him clothing, that was dumb. She couldn't buy him a photo album, for he had no pictures. And she was _not_ going to pull a Lav-Lav and get him jewelry. Exhausted and stressed, Hermione battled through through the crowd of last minute shoppers that filled the cobble stone streets of Hogsmead. Maybe she could get him a book. He wasn't like Harry and Ron, he wouldn't scoff and accuse her of being obsessed with books. Books were kind of impersonal, but if it was a good one it wouldn't matter. So she forced her way through the panicked shoppers toward the local bookstore, wondering what type of book she could get him. Something rare, perhaps. Maybe a first edition of something, though nothing too expensive. All she had was 5 galleons, since the trunk couldn't offer more. After all, manufacturing money _was_ an offense.

The DADA section proved useless. He already had almost the entire section of the bookcase back at the head's common room. She doubted that he would appreciate a book on a school subject. Was there something from the future he would love? What books were there that hadn't been published yet? Well, there were all of the books on _him_, but that would just discourage him. She could just imagine that conversation.

Tom: What's this?

Hermione: It's a book about all the destruction you caused when you were older.

Tom: And you gave this to me why?

Hermione: Because you haven't read it yet.

Tom: Wait, this has bloody pictures!

Perhaps she should just give him a notebook, so he could write down all of his spells. That could work. She wandered over to the stationary section and found a shelf that held journals. _No, defiantly not a frilly pink one,_ she thought, shoving a fallen diary back on the shelf. Simple was best for Tom, so she pulled a small, black leather volume off to examine it closer. '_Notes'_ was written on the cover in spindly script. It was masculine and strangely enough, four galleons. _Perfect_.

After waiting in line for twenty minutes behind someone who seemed to be Ron's grandmother and a two-year-old Arthur Weasely, she reached the counter.

"Would you like this gift wrapped?" asked the worker. She nodded and he reached for a sheet of purple paper, pulling out his wand.

"Wait, can I just write something inside quickly?" He shrugged and handed the diary back to her, gesturing to a quill and inkpot beside the register, before moving on to help the next customer. She dipped the long quill into the inkwell, wondering what to say.

Five minute later she handed the journal back to the attendant, feeling a lot more confident.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

_What do you get for the girl you want to give the world to?_ Tom thought as he wandered the many streets of the small village. He had an hour left before he would meet Hermione at the Three Broomsticks, and was utterly confused. Never in his life had he ever given someone a Christmas present, or any present for that matter, and never had he ever received one, so he was at a loss for what to do. Not only was Hermione the first person to understand him, but she was also a _girl_, one who he _loved_. So what to get her?

It wasn't like he could make her anything. Well, he could with magic, but that didn't seem very Christmassy. Not that he cared about being "Christmassy," because he didn't, but he had a feeling this was the first holiday Hermione would be spending without her friends and family, so it had to be good. Ugg, why was this so hard? He couldn't be defeated by Christmas; he was Tom bloody Marvolo Riddle!

He passed a jewelry store and a glint of silver distracted him. Backtracking, he saw it was a ring, with a small sapphire gem set into the platinum band. It was understated and simple, but beautiful. Huh, jewelry could work. He entered the store and went up to the nearest worker.

"Excuse me, but how much is that ring with the sapphire in the window?" he asked quietly, aware that Abraxas Malfoy who had graduated three years previously, was examining a bracelet close by. It word got out he was Christmas shopping then his reputation would go down the toilet. Not that it mattered- because it didn't. The elderly worker smiled.

"Ah, is this for a girlfriend?" Tom nodded, picking at a loose strand hanging off his cloak. "Well, it's a small gem and has no magical properties, so I'll let it go for about 50 galleons." Tom winced.

"How about 25?" The man chuckled, but gave him a small smile.

"What about 30? It's the holidays after all, and it's for someone special. Does hat sound okay?" The teen nodded slowly, pulling out his worn money ouch from his pocket. He was reluctant to let go of most of his savings, but he would do anything for Hermione. The man waddled to the window and plucked the small velvet box from the display. Tom shifted from foot to foot, Malfoy was getting closer. He completed the transaction with his head bent and was almost out the door but-

"Riddle! Is that you? Still skulking around in corners I see!" Tom sighed, slipping the box into his breast pocket before turning to face the loud Malfoy. He looked the same, classic blond hair and wealthy smirk.

"Malfoy. Long time no see." **(A/N: I can hear you all going _"oh!"_)** The blonde's posture reeked of power and influence. Any normal seventeen year old would be quaking in their boots, but Tom knew Malfoy could dish it but not take it. "How's the misses?" The smirk slipped off the aristocrat's face. Not many people knew that Malfoy had been forced to dumb his girlfriend to accommodate an arranged marriage.

"Fine, Riddle, Fine. Or at least she will be once I give her a big holiday gift." He grumbled under his breath about. "Diamonds, only Diamonds for Mrs. Malfoy," before looking back up. "But you, you're still single! What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" He gestured around the small shop. "How can you afford it? A poor orphan like you can't shop in here! Or is Dippet giving you an allowance these days?" _If only he knew I was heir to Slytherin, _Tom thought bitterly.

"I've been saving up," Tom spat, really wishing he could hex the bastard out of the glass window. He knew he could take him, but what would Hermione think? _Bloody Merlin, I'm late to meet Mione._ "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to meet someone." He turned to leave but Malfoy kept talking.

"Another meeting with your followers? What were they called, the Death Dieters?" Tom's right hand twitched toward his wand, but he tried not to reach for it.

"No actually. My girlfriend is waiting." He didn't wait for a response as he wormed his way out he glass door. Malfoy was infuriating. Always would be infuriating. _I guess it runs in their blood._

Hermione had snagged a table toward the back of the Three Broomsticks. On the seat next to her was a small brown bag, out of which poked a small green ribbon. He did his best to ignore the obvious present as he sat down on her other side. "Sorry I'm late. I ran into an old _friend_." She didn't need to ask if he was being sarcastic as she handed him a mug.

"Who?" He sighed and took a long sip of the frosty beverage.

"Do you know Abraxas Malfoy?" he asked bitterly, sinking into the chair. She groaned.

"I'm on a last name basis with his grandson. Well, _was_ on a last name basis with him."

"Who killed him?" he asked casually, leaning over the wooden surface to grab a coaster.

"Abraxas got eaten by a manticore, don't ask me how. Lucius, his son, went crazy in Azkaban, and Draco, his son, got killed by you. I swear that was the only murder you committed that I actually wouldn't have blamed you for." He laughed and drummed his fingers on his leg. "You know, in my fourth year Draco got turned into a ferret by our DADA teacher. It was the best moment of my life, I'll never forget it."

"I wish someone would turn Abraxas into a ferret. He is one already. He's such a hypocrite. Accusing me of stalking around, when the Chamber of Secrets was opened he went around asking who was the heir of Slytherin. Then, when no one came forward he said he did it himself." Still grumbling under his breath, he took another sip.

"That must have killed you," Hermione remarked over her glass.

"Oh well, I got my revenge." He smiled wickedly.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing dark. No, I just changed his voice so he sounded like a bloody chipmunk for a month. The professor's couldn't find a way to reverse the hex, said they'd never seen anything like it before."

"Because you invented it?"

"Of course." The laughed and Tom wondered if this was what normal friend ship was. Were they actually "going steady" or… what did the muggle teens at the orphanage call it? "Friends with Benefits?" See, this was why he didn't _have_ friends. This was too confusing. Not that he would give this up. It felt nice to be understood. "So what did you get me?" She ran her finger around the rim of his glass.

"Nothing big, but I think you'll like it." She was thinking of the message inside the gift, not the gift itself, but he didn't know that. "I usually exchange gifts Christmas morning, but do you want to tomorrow night? I just can't wait."

"Sure, what ever you want to do." She nodded, basking in the calm silence that wasn't at all awkward. Sadly, all good things come to an end.

"Would you like a refill, my dears?" asked a woman who looked like a younger and pregnant Mme. Rosmerta. She looked pleasantly between the two teenagers as if they were announcing they were newly weds.

"Mme. Rosetella, this is Hermione Granger, she's new at Hogwarts," Tom introduced, and Hermione happily shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you, Madame. And yes, I would love a refill, thank you," she said politely, pleased that she had guessed correctly that this was Mme. Rosmerta's mother.

"Pleasure's mine, Miss. It's good to see Mr. Riddle here with pleasant company." Tom looked down, his gelled hair ineffectively hiding the pink tinge spreading through his cheeks. You see, that's the price of gelling your hair! "I'll refill that glass and be on my way," she announced with a wink to Hermione. The cup refilled itself as promised and Mme. Rosetella moved on to the next table.

"Can I ask you something random, Mione?" She nodded, taking a sip of her drink. "What are 'friends with benefits?'" She gagged on her butter-beer and gulped it down, gasping for air.

"Is that what this is?" she asked, flicking her finger between the two of them, her eyes suddenly tearing. Though because of her lack of air or for his question, he didn't know.

"No- yes- no, I don't know! I'm asking you what the term means!" She blushed and bit her tongue.

"You're asking me for a definition?"

"Well, apparently."

"Umm… it's kind of hard to explain." _OMG, how am I having this conversation? STALL! STALL! _"It's different for each person." _Yeah, because not every person does it the same way._

"I'm sensing this is a touchy subject?" he observed with a ghost of sarcasm.

"Just a tad. It's um… whentwofriendsactalittlemorethanfriendswithnostringsattatchedifyouknowwhatimeanonaregularbasis." He blinked.

"And we're not 'friends-with-benefits?" She blanched.

"I dunno, I mean, I didn't think so, right?"

"Of course not. And I didn't mean to upset you, I've just always heard the muggles talking about it and I never knew what that meant." Her color slowly returned and she instantly felt better. "Could you explain frenching next?"

"What!"

"Only joking, I swear."

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**A/N: Aww, Tom is just too cute. And a ring… hmm, that gives me more options in terms of plot twists… Teaser?**

_It wasn't like he was proposing. He wasn't even telling her he loved her. Then again, a ring that had cost him half his savings probably said more than "I like you a lot."_

**To true. New character next chapter as well. Trust me when I say you do not want to miss the next one. Toodles! AND REVIEW!**


	11. A BIG Misunderstanding

**A/N: Now, just FYI, I am typing this about 20 minutes after I've uploaded chapter 10. I hope you all liked it; I think it was really cute. But this, however, is the best chapter by far so far. **

**Oh, and BTW I have a new story posted, Magnetic Attraction. It's a Dramione, but I love it and it's doing really well so far, so check it out. Please? Anyway, I'll just start. Oh, and I'll do a fun disclaimer because I'm bored.**

**Disclaimer:**

**Kristyn: Yeah! I come into the story in this chapter!**

**Tom: And you mess everything up.**

**Kristyn: Hey, that was a misunderstanding!**

**Me: A big misunderstanding, thus the title.**

**Kristyn: (Glares)**

**Hermione: (Squeals) I'm just so happy!**

**Tom: Right… I'm just going to go now.**

**Hermione: Squee!**

**So anyway, I don't own Harry Potter, or Hermione, or Tom.**

**Chapter 11: A BIG Misunderstanding**

Hermione spent the next day in the library, just reveling in the familiarity of the setting. She told Tom that she wanted to spend some time on her own before they exchanged gifts, and since he understood the value of solitude, he didn't argue. She idly skimmed an early addition of Hogwarts: A History, wondering if writing what she had in Tom's gift had been a good idea. It wasn't something she had told anyone or written anyone before, and she was doing her best to get cold feet. (A/N: The suspense is killing you, isn't it?)

_This is a mistake, Granger_, a voice from the back of her head drawled. _You're moving too quickly_, the Malfoy like voice added. She had such a weird conscience.

_It's too late, I've already written it,_ she protested mentally, turning a page. _What can I do now?_

_You are a witch, Granger, do something,_ it bit back sarcastically. Since when had she been able to corner herself in an argument? Maybe she was loosing it.

_I don't feel like doing anything. I meant what I wrote, and I don't want to take it back. I mean, I know he was Lord Voldemort, but at the same time I can't deny that I'm attracted to him. He understands me. He needs me!_ Snicker filled her mind as she slammed the book shut.

_He needs you does he? Oh Granger, you are so doomed._ She chose to ignore the snarky comments. She wasn't doomed, she was fine. _Fine_. Really.

Tom brushed an imaginary speck of dust off the velvet box. He wasn't sure why he was so nervous. It wasn't like he was proposing! He wasn't even telling her he loved her! Ten again, a ring that had cost him half of his savings probably said more than "I like you a lot." This was unnerving, he hated this silence. What would she say when he gave it to her? What would _he_ say? "I wasn't sure what you would like, so I wandered around and this caught my-" no, that wouldn't work. "You're beautiful, and this ring is beautiful like y-," that wouldn't work either. He couldn't pull off the Mr. Poetic persona that just wasn't him. "I thought of you when I saw this." There, that was fine. It was true, and simple. If it weren't simple he would mess it up somehow. That was the thing about Hermione; he let his guards down around her without realizing it. Maybe it had to do with the fact that she already knew his faults, she already knew who he _was_. There was no way to hide behind wit and charisma; she knew he would have been Lord Voldemort if it weren't for her. Did she know how much about him she was changing?

Reluctantly, he slipped the small box back into his pocket and sat straight on the common room couch. Where was she? His watch read 5:45, she was supposed to be there by now so they could walk down to dinner together after opening gifts. Perry was in her room as per usual. He erratically wondered what she was doing, but the creak of the portrait opening stole his attention from the woeful girl. Hermione eased herself through the opening, not noticing his presence. There was an air of uneasiness about her, which he noticed immediately. It was something that came naturally to him now, reading her aura.

He cleared his throat, and she jerked her head up in alarm. He smiled feebly, and she returned it as she walked over, pulling a small rectangular gift out of her robe pocket. It was wrapped in plain, unpatterned, purple paper and had a thin ribbon of silver wound around it. Great, purple. He hated that color, though he wasn't sure why. It was just irritating. The girl sat down next to him, cross-legged, facing him. She handed the light gift to him, which he took with his slender fingers.

"You're nervous," he commented quietly, probing her honey eyes with his own dark pupils. Strangely enough she shivered, and Tom wondered what he had said wrong.

"As always, you know all," she whispered before pointing to the gift. "Go on, open it." Tom turned his attention back to the gift. What had Hermione gotten him? Had she had such a difficulty in purchasing something as he had? He hoped she had, it showed she cared. Curiosity urged him to tear open the paper and reveal what it was hiding, but manors and self-control allowed him to stifle it. Cleanly sliding a fingernail along the edge of the square parcel, the paper slid off to reveal a leather cover. He pulled the paper away and small notebook fell into his lap, as he began to panic again.

_She got me a notebook and I got her an effing ring? She is so going to figure out that I love her! Crap, what now!_ She noticed his alarm and rested her hand on his shoulder.

"Open it." Mortified, he turned to the first page, but found it was not blank. Written in neat pristine script was a note. He read it slowly, lapping up the word as she bit her lip, rubbing a circle on his sweater clad shoulder with her thumb unintentionally. His features calmed, all hint of panic replaced with excitement, pleasure, and a small amount, no a large amount, of shock. She had expected that, as well as the noticeable amount of relief in his eyes as he read and reread the writing.

**(A/N: Originally I was just going to cut it off here, but I'm not that cruel.)**

_Tom-_

_I wasn't sure what to get you as a gift. You probably don't realize how hard you are to shop for. So instead of buying you some amazingly rare item I decided to get you something you can make amazing. Fill this volume with spells, work, ponderings, or anything you wish. Because you are amazing._

_Now I realize how dumb that last line sounds. You're probably scoffing now as you read this, you never liked people who talk before they think. Well, it's true. I'm not just saying that so that I can go home faster, you need to believe me. I won't leave you. I don't think I can, because I think I'm falling in love with you. There, I said it. We've known each other for about five days and yet I already know it's true. Please don't run from he room screaming like I'm a mountain lion, now that I've said that. Oh great, now I'm ranting. Anyway, merry Christmas._

_Love, Hermione_

_She couldn't have gotten me a better present_, he realized as he reread the letter for the seventh time. There was no regret about getting the ring in his mind now. He was _loved_ at last. Real love, not obsession. 'I won't leave you,' he read again. 'I don't think I can, because I think I'm in love with you.' For once in his life, Tom forgot about his muggle father. He forgot about the Gaunts, he forgot he was heir of Slytherin. He forgot he was already a murderer. He forgot he didn't have friends. All he remembered was Hermione. He started, realizing he had yet to say anything, and that she was still uneasily rubbing circles on his back.

"I'm not going to run from the room," he informed her, tearing his eyes away from her pristine script. She was still nervous, her eyes questioning. He knew their question already. "You couldn't have given me a better gift." It only took her a second to comprehend what he was saying, but he simplified it anyway. "I think I love you too," he admitted finally, a tint of gratitude and yet small sarcasm in his suddenly hoarse voice. But she didn't notice the Slytherin sarcasm. "Actually, I _know_ I love you." Instead of answering she kissed him, relieved, before he even knew what had happened. The leather book fell with a soft thunk to the floor, which neither noticed, as Tom slid an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. She entangled her hand into his crisp hair, bad gel boy bad, and pushed him down onto the couch below her. This time around, thoughts of Harry and Ron where nowhere to be seen. A small black box fell unnoticed on top of the notebook after it slipped out of Tom's pocket a minute later. When the couple broke for air several minutes later, Tom reluctantly panted, "Wait, we forgot your gift." Curiosity overwhelmed her urge to just snog him for another hour, and she carefully lifted herself off him. He sat up beside her, and upon realizing the box had fallen to the floor, he slid off the couch onto his knee to pick it up.

"I thought of you when I saw this," he said as he turned around and opened the box so she could see what it held. She gasped in shock as the tiny sapphire glittered in the soft candlelight. "You're not that easy to shop for yourself, Mione." Her eyes grew to the size of dinner plates until she began to resemble a house elf. "Um… hello?" he thought briefly as she blinked.

"Yes!" she finally said, eyes shining and face glowing. Tom was sure he had never seen her this happy. _What?_ "Um, this is so sudden, but I love you, so yes!" **(A/N: HA! I TOLD you that there would be a plot twist!)**

"What are you-," but he was cut off as the portrait creaked open, and a dark blond girl in time appropriate muggle jeans and button down blue shirt that was much too big for her gracefully slid through the portrait hole.

"PERRY MINELLA GET OUT HERE THIS INST-" but her voice dies as she saw Tom kneeling on the ground extending a ring to someone she'd never seen before. "Oh. My. God," the gossip queen stammered, a sly smile spreading across her face. Her eyes went back and forth between the two as if they were two pairs of shoes she had yet to choose between. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything." That was when Tom realized he was down on one knee! _Holy shit_ was the only thought he had as the girl laughed, actually laughed, before yelling, "Perry!" and diving into the head girl's room. Hermione appeared not to have noticed.

"Can I put it on?" she asked, her voice quivering with excitement.

"Ugn…" was all he could manage as she took that as a yes and pulled the velvet box toward her.

"This I beautiful, Tom." _Okay, breathe. Just tell her that's not what you meant._ But as she slid the silver band around her ring finer, bursting with joy like he'd never seen her before, he just couldn't do it. _What would it to? Make her blush, perhaps cry?_ He couldn't do it. It wasn't worth it, and by tomorrow morning, the whole school would think he was engaged anyway. Queen of Gossip Kristyn Hansen would insure it. Judging by the muffled sounds of laughter emerging from under the door, Minella already knew. And Hansen would tell her boyfriend Kyle Winter in Hufflepuff, so that covered three of the houses. The only house not in the know was Slytherin, but the ghosts would tell them. There was no point. Hermione beamed at him up onto the sofa next to her.

"I'm glad you like it," he said softly, before catching her lips in another kiss. He had a _family_ now! A _fiancé_! In five days he had gone from being completely misunderstood and alone to loved and appreciated. _What if I hadn't been in the Headmaster's office that day?_ He thought as she wrapped her arms around his neck. _How different would my life be?_ He would be in his bedroom sulking, or scheming up ways to find out more about horcruxes. There was no need for dark magic anymore, he had Hermione. Suddenly he remembered his death eaters. They would be mad, livid that he was disserting them. They would try and hurt her.

_Not on my watch_, he promised himself. They couldn't take this happiness away from him.

"Professor Dumbledore," someone called as they bashed on his office door. "Professor, are you there?" The voice was young and feminine, and he knew who it was.

"I'm coming Minerva," he said calmly as he swung open the door. Minerva was his apprentice whom he was training. At the young age of eighteen, freshly graduated from Hogwarts, the woman was an asset to the staff. She knew some of the students in the older years and had an ear for gossip and news. "Please call me Albus, care for tea?" Se nodded sleepily and passed him to sit down in front of his desk.

"Sure, sure. Listen, I've heard the most peculiar item of news that I don't comprehend." She looked fairly shocked and Dumbledore didn't interrupt as he poured her a steaming cup of the beverage. "Supposedly our head boy, Tom Riddle, has been," she paused to yawn widely, "Romantic with a girl. We don't know who she is though. Ms. Hansen of Ravenclaw told me that head girl Perry Minella said she is a new student, Hermione something." He chuckled as he sat down behind his desk, holding a brandy.

"Ah yes, Ms. Granger. A Gryffindor like yourself." She sent him a glare.

"I wasn't finished."

"Well do continue, excuse my interruption."

"Fine. Well apparently Kristyn walked in on them while Riddle was…" she took another yawn, secretly reveling in making him wait. "Proposing."

"Really?" he asked calmly. "Well good for them, they seem happy." McGonagall didn't miss the twinkle in his eye.

"Doesn't this seem a little _odd_ to you? You say she's a Gryffindor, correct?"

"And a muggleborn," he added, just to make her nervous. She looked up, alarmed.

"But why on earth is he with her? Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with being muggleborn, I'm not a pureblood, but he's like Joe Slytherin! I've never trusted him." He sighed and drummed his fingers on the wooden desktop. "You can't help but notice that they _are_ a very unlikely couple. How much do we even _know_ of this Hermione Granger?"

"I will admit that they are an unexpected pair, but they should not be broken up. Do your best to insure that no one comes between them." She frowned at his answer.

"But who is she? Where did she come from?"

"That, Minerva, is Tom and Hermione's business." Minerva hated that damn twinkle, it sparkled as she yawned. "Now my dear you should return to your rooms, it is getting late."

"Just keep an eye on them, Albus. I want to know what they're up to." He smiled politely, thinking of his crystal ball.

"Don't worry, my friend. I shall see you tomorrow."

**A/N: OMG! DON'T YOU JUST LOVE THAT CHAPTER? They're engaged! HAHA! I am the best! REVIEW! I want your reactions! Teaser?**

"_I wonder what the half blood would say if he found out his fiancé was a dirty little slut." She gasped as he leaned down to kiss her roughly on the lips._

**MWAHAHA, mean teaser, huh? Ok, next chapter, Rosier reappears, (and causes trouble, hint hint.) Kristyn smirks, and Perry feels a lot better. Anyway, check out my new fan fic, and REVIEW!**

**Final Word Count: 2742 (Semi long!)**


	12. A Miracle

**A/N: I'm sure that last chapter got you all hyperventilating! Not that I'd blame you, I mean, they're engaged for Pete's sake! Well, anyway here is chapter 12, which if I may say is HUGE! You all better be happy. In this gigantic chapter we are reintroduced to Kristyn Hansen, remember that girl who walked in on Tom and Hermione? That's Kristyn. And we spend more time with Perry. And Rosier returns, full blast. You will want to kill him very soon. Plus we want to hug Tom more. And one problem solves itself. I'll just start, seeing as you've all proved you don't read the A/Ns anyway. Let me just do a fun disclaimer first.**

**Disclaimer: Tom: Hansen, you better not bother us again.**

**Kristyn: It's your fault for proposing in the middle of your common room.**

**Tom: Well you didn't have to walk in!**

**Hermione: I'M ENGAGED!**

**Kristyn: We know.**

**Tom: Since when do you get to be in the disclaimer anyway, Hansen?**

**Writer: Ever since her real life counterpart yelled at me for making her a slut.**

**Kristyn: I'm _not_ a slut!**

**Tom: Right…**

**Hermione: I'M ENGAGED!**

**So anyway, I don't own Harry Potter, or Kristyn or Perry.**

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**Chapter 12: A Miracle**

For some reason Hermione couldn't sleep. She wasn't afraid or uncomfortable, and Tom was calming for her, but she just couldn't nod off.

Instead she curled up on the gray and green couch, a new book from the shelf in hand. Creative Curses and Charms was full of random and strange spells that she was itching to use on someone. Malfoy would have look smashing with a blond afro, but she would have to wait. At least if she ran into Rosier again she would be prepared. Banishing his ears would be fun. Tom would be so proud. Tom. Her fiancé. _Cool_. If someone had told her a week ago she would be engaged to Tom Marvolo Riddle, she would have personally escorted them to Madame Pomfrey. However, the thought was now wonderful, a happiness that she had not felt for months, perhaps even years. The ring resting on her finger had such an effect on her, she realized as she admired how it reflected her wand light around the dark common room. At least now it wasn't embarrassing to ask Tom to stay with her overnight. It would be immature if they didn't.

Then again, sharing a bed had lead her to realize that if she wanted to spend her life with him, certain… activities would be expected eventually. She winced even thinking about it. _You can't even say it, Granger,_ her Malfoy conscience drawled. _Go on, say it. Sex. S-E-X._ It wasn't like she didn't want to hake you-know-what, she just wasn't ready. It was only a day or two ago that she had received a kiss she was proud of. But she knew Tom wouldn't pressure her. After all, he was in the same place she was.

"I love that book," announced a small voice from across the room. Hermione snapped her head up. Perry quietly tiptoed across the soft carpet and sat down on the red trimmed couch. "Can't sleep?"

"No," she answered quietly, closing the book and placing it beside her.

"Same here." Hermione didn't need to ask why, nightmares. She had them too, as she expected Tom did as well. They sat in silence, while Hermione twirled the ring around her finger.

"Congratulations, by the way," Perry offered as she stretched out on the sofa, resting her head on a throw pillow.

"On what?"

"With you and Riddle. It surprised me at first, but from what I've seen he seems different around you, mellow." She digested the words; grateful someone other than herself had noticed the change in him. "You seem to click, like Kristyn says I do with-," but her voice broke, and Hermione remembered that Perry's boyfriend was MIA.

"Things won't stay like this for long," Hermione whispered. "I know what you're thinking, but trust me when I say you won't be in the dark for long. This is the worst part." For a moment it seemed Perry would bite back, but she didn't since she knew Hermione had been in this position.

"Thank you. I just hate not knowing. He could be anywhere and I can't close my eyes without seeing him dead or bleeding." Perry rubbed her eyes with her knuckles and stared up at the ceiling.

"It's miserable, feeling hopeless, isn't it?" She nodded.

"I just don't know if I'll ever see him again." Suddenly Hermione had a brain wave. Pureblooded boyfriend named Gabriel…

"Is your boyfriend Gabriel le Soir?" Perry nodded drowsily, closing her eyes. Gabriel le Soir, long running family tree, missing in 1944 and wasn't found until 1962 when his corpse was discovered in a dungeon of the Welsh Castle along the English Channel. Hermione shivered. Died of starvation after being locked up and left… meaning he could still be alive! "I need to see Professor Dumbledore," she told her while hopping off the couch and bolting towards the door.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

"Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione yelled, banging on his office door as it rattled on its hinges. She cursed the late hour and yelled again, "Professor Dumbledore!"

"Ah, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore answered as he pulled the door open to let her in, eyes twinkling as he noticed her red flannel pjs. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I know where Gabriel le Soir is, he's imprisoned at the Welsh castle along the English Channel!" The shock he felt jolt him as she began to pace back and forth across the whirring office was not shown on his face. "I'm not positive, but that seems to add up. Oh I don't know, but you should check. Perry's a mess, I wanted to tell her my theory but I couldn't because she'll want to know how I know and I can't tell her I'm from the future!" Her rant ended and she trailed off, still pacing in circles.

"Thank you for this information, Ms. Granger, I will look into it immediately." She nodded, folding her arms across her chest, shivering in the winter breeze that slithered through the window. His tone was urgent, and she walked back to the doorway, grateful that she had hopefully been able to help. He called her back as she opened the door.

"By the way, congratulations about you and Mr. Riddle. It seems you have accomplished the task my future self assigned you." She smiled warily and bid him good night. The crisp chill that she had felt in the Professor's office stayed with her as she walked in a pair of house slippers back to the head's dorms on the fifth floor. It made the hair on the back of her neck rise as she turned a corner on the sixth floor, and she uneasily sped up her pace. Something didn't seem right, and she pulled her wand from her side pocket and held it behind her back as she plowed onward. She had almost made it onto the fifth floor before she needed to use it.

"Well well well, if it isn't Mrs. Riddle out for a bed time stroll?" She whirled around, wand at the ready, to see a sinister looking Rosier smirking at her as he leaned his back against the wall.

"What do you want," she spat, watching as he ventured forward confidently, his face partially hidden in the shadows.

"Nothing, I just want to talk to you," he drawled, smirking as she shivered again.

"Remember the last time you tried to talk?" His smirk turned to a scowl and he strode forward. Gripping her wand firmly, not backing down, she added, "You ended up bawling like a baby." Her satisfaction didn't last long as he growled and threw her backward against the wall, pinning her against it by her arms. She fumbled her wand, struggling to regain her grip on it.

"I wonder what the half-blood would say if he found out his fiancé was a dirty little slut." She gasped as he leaned down to kiss her roughly on the lips. He pushed against her, forcing the back of her head to grind painfully against the stonewall. Infuriated beyond belief, she took advantage of his sloppiness and kneed him in the groin, causing him to stumble backward, moaning. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, glaring daggers.

"He'd probably kill you," she retorted, her voice quivering with rage. Walking away, she stepped on the hand of the convulsing figure as she passed him, and didn't slouch off her proud posture until she entered the common room. Thankfully, Perry had gone back to her bedroom, and she didn't have to hide her shaken exterior. Tom didn't wake as Hermione slid under the silk covers beside him, just automatically wrapped his arm loosely around her waist, pulling her closer. Exhausted and upset, she drifted off into a fitful sleep.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

"Let's get out of this room," Hermione suggested as she lay on her back stretched out across Tom's bed. Tom was leafing through a potions textbook at his desk, trying to wake himself up. "Come on, I don't want to miss breakfast on Christmas morning!" He turned, his face stoic, and said,

"I've never eaten in the Great Hall on Christmas." Sympathy form the teen- no _man_, sitting across from her welled up inside her.

"Well get a move on so we can get there before all the food's gone!" He shrugged and stood up, pulling up his school cloak off the back of his chair. His movements were lethargic for some reason, and his hair was ungelled and limp, though still maintaining a wonderful bed head appearance.

"Why are you so tired?" she asked as he laced up his trainers.

"Why are you so jumpy?" Ah, he'd gotten her. She'd decided not to inform him of Rosier's rebellion from the previous night, as it would drive him to do something rash. It didn't matter; hopefully they could go back to her time soon, once Perry's mess had been sorted out.

"Do you always answer a question with a question?" she bit back as he extended a hand to pull her up off his bed. She took it, and didn't let go.

"Do you?" Damn, it felt nice to have a sparing partner who wouldn't give up and call her a mudblood.

"Ok, ok," she grumbled as he pulled her out of the empty common room and into the hallway.

"Ha ha, I win." He bent down and kissed her temple. "Are you going to sit at Slytherin table with me?" She looked up at him, trying to keep her face blank. Slytherin meant Rosier meant questions meant canceled engagement meant Lord Voldemort.

"Why can't you sit at Gryffindor table with me?" The mere thought made him shiver. She stifled a giggle.

"I can't do that."

"And why not?"

"A Slytherin at Gryffindor table is like a crime! I can't do that!" She scoffed and he continued, bending over slightly so he could hiss, "and you're forgetting about the little fact that I'm heir of Slytherin!" in her ear. She glanced up at him with a bemused expression.

"You do realize that you're probably going to marry a Gryffindor, right Tom? I think I see a flaw in your logic!" He scowled at the floor but didn't let go of her hand.

"I don't mind you, it's everyone else that bothers me."

"You'd better get used to it, since almost everyone at the ceremony will be from Gryffindor." As an afterthought she added, "You can always invite Slughorn if you get lonely." As predicted, he groaned.

"That old codger is still around? Damn him and damn his crystallized pineapple!" He began to muter under his breath and Hermione laughed slightly, but caught him grumble, "No, it is not a DADA project you old fart." She froze but Tom kept walking, only to be pulled backward like a puppy at the end of its leash.

"So you've asked him…" she said quietly to herself.

"What?"

"You've asked him about… about," she couldn't bring herself to say it. Her fiancé's face became ashen as he realized what she was saying.

"Bloody fucking hell, how do you know about that?" She tried to muster a smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. "Oh god, did I make one?" She shook her head but it didn't make him feel better. "Shit, I made more than one?" Hermione didn't answer, only looked down at their entwined hands.

"Seven," she rasped, quivering under his probing stare.

"Bloody hell, I was an evil prick. _Seven_, shit!" She didn't answer, just watched as the small sapphire twinkled like Dumbledore's eyes. "Well don't you worry, because I will never," he stopped to kiss her ear quickly, "ever," he kissed her jaw, "ever make a horcrux." He kissed her on the lips, and she melted into the embrace, as he wrapped his arms around her small waist. She wound her fingers into his silky (gelless) hair, and parted her lips so he could enter her mouth. They both conviently forgot they were in a public corridor, but were suddenly interrupted when a sly voice cut in.

"My, my Riddle, you're getting sloppy." Hermione leapt back from Tom and expected to see Rosier, but was instead greeted by the happy face of the girl who had walked in on them the previous night, walking with the still gloomy Perry. Both Tom and Hermione blushed in unison as the girl raised a shaped eyebrow.

"Hansen," he greeted with a jerk of his chin towards her. "Minella."

"I'm Kristyn," the girl said while stepping forward and extending a hand. Hermione shook it, still red in the face. "Kristyn Hansen." She flipped through her mental encyclopedia. _Kristyn Hansen, famous actress and singer. Married Kyle Winter in 1948 and had twins in 1951. Died in 1993 of natural causes._

"I'm Hermione Granger," she said calmly as Tom struggled to keep his face stoic. Kristyn looked down at her left hand and said,

"Don't you mean Riddle?" indicating the ring. Hermione blushed. _I guess news travels just as fast in 1944._

"Not yet." Kristyn smiled and Tom shifted from foot to foot nervously. He had never been on good terms with her and hated the petty gossip she had a habit of spreading. To say the least, their situation was awkward.

"I like you, you seem quick," the girl observed. "We were an our way to breakfast, as I assume you two were before hormones kicked in. Would you care to join us?" Hermione had to admit this girl was cool. She got straight to the point, as Ginny used to. The offer was tempting, but she could feel Tom's uncertainty radiating off him. "That is if we can steal her away from you, Riddle?"

"Um…" he hesitated, unwilling to leave Hermione's side. She turned to face him, really wanting some girl time.

"I promise I'll sit at the Slytherin table for dinner," she told him. Kristyn whistled.

"Wow Riddle, that's quite a big sacrifice to make. Don't worry, she won't be blond when we give her back." Tom glared at her, but caved.

"Fine. I'll meet up with you later, okay Hermione?" She nodded and he stalked off, once again feel paranoid.

"Well, he's certainly protective of you, isn't he?" Kristyn observed with an amused tone.

"He can be a little insecure," Hermione responded as they began to walk in the direction Tom had gone. "And we've only been engaged a half a day, you can't really blame him." Kristyn nodded vaguely and Perry trailed after them, looking bored but still listening intently.

"I never would have thought Riddle would pop the question. You must be some girl if he's interested."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Kristyn nodded again.

"You should. Does he treat you well?" she asked. Giggling softly, Hermione remembered falling asleep next to him for the first time. "I'll take that as a yes. Is he a good kisser?" Noticing her new friend's blush, Perry scoffed.

"Kristyn, lay off the girl, you've only just met her!" The blond held her hands up in mock innocence.

"No, it's ok Perry. And he totally is."

"Awesome. You know, he always kind of creeped me out, but I have got to admit he's got that whole bad boy, rebel without a cause thing going on. I bet he's good in bed, right?"

"Kristyn Hansen! You are so bad!" Perry teased, re-entering the conversation. She did, however, turn back to Hermione and ask, "Well, is he?" Hermione blushed.

"Well, I don't know yet. We haven't done… _that_ yet." Perry nodded wisely, but her friend just smirked.

"You guys are so dull. Where's the scandal? The excitement?"

"Merlin, what would your mother say, Kristyn?" Perry retorted.

"She'd probably blink over and over and change the subject. One word about sex and she's all, _do not compute!"_ They laughed and Hermione realized they had reached the great hall.

Kristyn lead the way to the Gryffindor table, which seemed a custom, and sat down across from her and Perry, her back to the Slytherin table. Hermione could see Tom buttering toast as he sat next to Rosier, who leered at her. Actually, everyone in the hall was either staring at her or Tom, but she tried to ignore it. Her ring glittered in the faux sunlight from the ceiling as she poured herself some milk. Kristyn and Perry resumed complaining about their parents and Hermione fell silent. Tom caught her eye and winked at her. She smiled back.

Owl post arrived, bringing a flock of holiday cards streaming through the windows. Hermione watched as a tawny owl dropped a white rose in front of Kristyn along with a note. The blond stood up and blew a kiss to a sandy blond boy at the Hufflepuff table, who mimed catching it with a butterfly net. Perry too received an owl, but it didn't hold a card. She read the scroll in silence as Hermione sampled a warm muffin.

"Oh my god, they found him," she finally whispered to herself, her eyes wide. Kristyn and Hermione both looked up at the trembling girl.

"What?" they said in unison.

"The found Gabriel. Oh my god, they found Gabriel. He's okay, he's in the hospital wing!" She whirled around and pushed herself off the bench. "I've got to see him! Merry Christmas!" She dashed out of the hall, grinning like a Jack-o-lantern, still repeating," Merlin, he's ok!" Kristyn turned to Hermione, saying,

"I guess that gives new meaning to the phrase 'A Christmas Miracle!'"

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

"Oh, here's a good one! First kiss?" Kristyn asked her from her position on the gray and red couch. Hermione stretched across the Slytherin sofa and breathed in the familiar scent of the head common room.

"Fourth year, a real meat head quidditch player. That soooo didn't work out," she replied, rolling her eyes at the thought of Victor.

"Oh?"

"Well, he didn't care much for reading and studying, etc. There was too much brawn and not enough brains."

"Now I see why you've chosen Riddle." Hermione tilted her head to watch her new friend as she continued. "He's studious, gets the best grades," Kristyn sighed. "Your turn."

"Same question." The blond grimaced.

"Ah, my first kiss was at a ball that my step father dragged me too, summer before third year. The devil himself cornered me and smooth talked his way into kissing me. I'm assuming you know Abraxas Malfoy?" Hermione gasped.

"Manticore boy? Your first kiss was with Manticore boy?"

"Manticore boy?" Kristyn responded, raising an eyebrow.

"Long story. That must have been horrid, and your _first_ kiss!"

"Well, Malfoy's may be gits, but at least he could kiss well, though not as well as Kyle." In reaction to Hermione's bemused expression she added, "My boyfriend's Kyle Winter. He's a real clown, but he's hot and he takes care of me. Classic Hufflepuff guy." Hermione raised her eyebrows and shrugged.

"That's cool." _I guess…_

"Okay, my turn. When did you first realize you love Riddle?" Kristyn asked shamelessly. Hermione squirmed uneasily.

"Two days ago, when I was shopping for a Christmas present to give him and I had no idea what to buy. He's unlike anyone I've ever met, and what do you get for someone like that? Then I realized, he was so different from everyone else and yet so much like me. And he's giving up so much for me! I'm muggleborn and a Gryffindor and now all of his friends look down on him! He's one of the only people who really cares about me. And I do really care about him. He makes me forget about my parents and my friends. That's when I realized I loved him. Just like that, on the third day I've known him." Kristyn blinked and sat up.

"You've only known him _five days_ and you're already engaged? Wow." She took a long guzzle of her butter beer. "You know, you just made Riddle seem like a nice guy." Hermione bristled and had to remind herself not to snap.

"But he is a nice guy! When I woke up in the hospital wing on my first day here he was healing my bruises, and was really gentle and considerate. People just have no idea how great he can be. But then when people approach him he goes back to being a brisk Slytherin. The more people push him, the more he closes up." She sighed and smoothed her skirt down.

"Well, I guess you never really know about a person. Your turn."

"Okay, what's your deepest dirty little secret?" Hermione asked with a sly smile. Kristyn glared at her. "That's a completely legal question."

"Fine, promise this won't become pillow talk with Riddle?" Hermione nodded. "Okay. Over the summer I went to a muggle sleep away camp to be a councilor. It was part of my mother's _I'm not married to a wizard and I don't have a half-blood daughter_ plan. Anyway, there was this guy named Josh who I hung out with. One night I got my hands on some contraband beer and we got smashed and I kissed him, I swear that's all we did!" Hermione snickered softly. Kristyn was like Ginny.

"Okay, I believe you. Wow, Kristyn, you have a very scandalous life; I don't see why you were complaining."

"Yes, because living with guilt is just so much fun," she growled sarcastically. "I've got a muggle mother who spaces out, a wizard father who's desperate to play at the Quidditch World Cup, a step father who's in the pureblood social circle, and a boyfriend who doesn't take me seriously."

"Hey, _I'm_ the one who just got engaged to a Slytherin-,"

"Who loved you and whom you love," Kristyn added, but Hermione plowed on, not watching what was coming out of her mouth.

"And _I'm_ the one who got attacked by Rosier last night!"

"Wait just a second, back up there! Rosier attacked you?" Hermione slapped her hand over her mouth. _Oops_. "Why? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. And I'm sure Rosier was just pissed that Tom proposed to me because I'm muggleborn or something." Kristyn still looked concerned, so she added, "Don't worry about me, I gave him a swift kick in his "area" if you know what I mean."

"Good for you! What did Riddle say when he found out?" Hermione looked down at the floor, still fingering her ring. "You did tell him didn't you?"

"Tell him what?" Tom asked as he slid through the portrait hole. The two girls jumped a foot at the sound of his voice. Kristyn didn't take her eyes off of her, however, as Tom moved to sit down next to Hermione.

"Tell you that-," Kristyn started.

"I prefer your hair when you don't gel it," Hermione interrupted. He raised his eyebrow doubtfully but didn't push the subject, and instead flattened his hair with his palm. Kristyn sighed and continued watching her friend, worried about her lack of honesty.

"Winter is looking for you, Hansen," Tom informed her coolly, startling her. She nodded and stood up.

"I'll see you around Hermione. Later Riddle." He only blinked, surprised by her recognition.

"By Kristyn," Hermione called, as the blond slid through the portrait hole. Finally alone, Rom wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Thanks for giving us some time, I really missed having a good girlfriend to gossip with." He shrugged and played with a strand of her hair.

"I suppose I have to get used to sharing you. Your friends Harry and Ron seem pretty protective of you from what I've seen." She grimaced and wrinkled her nose.

"It's almost like a vacation, not having them around. I miss them, but they don't always know when to back off. I suppose Ron had a reason to watch over me in the short time we were together, but that was only a couple months." They sat in peaceful silence as he ran the lock between his fingers.

"Let's go have dinner."

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**A/N: I think this is my longest chapter ever! I hope you all liked it, and that you all enjoyed Kristyn and the mess that she caused. Well, I'm off to make "I hate Rosier" buttons. Anyway, I'll give you a teaser before I go, mkay?**

"_I'm making you evil! I'm not changing history, I'm following it!" _

** Gasp from reviewers Don't worry, it all works itself out. Anyway, THANK YOU ALL FOR 100 REVIEWS! _WOOOO!_ Ok, now that that's over, go review! And check out my new story, Magnetic Attraction!**

**Toodles!**

**Final word count: 4318 (Defiantly my longest chapter ever! OMG! Fourteen word pages!)**


	13. A Relapse

**A/N: I love this chapter. I truly love it. It was just so much fun. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did, and then maybe this'll get up to 150 reviews? But I must warn you; this chapter doesn't have a huge amount of action because the next one is FULL of action. Like you wouldn't believe! Think in terms of the Lightening Struck Tower chapter in HBP. Yes, that big. But this one rocks as well.**

**Disclaimer: Perry: I can't believe you're back!**

**Gabriel: Well, I am.**

**Perry: I know!**

**Tom: They've hijacked our disclaimer.**

**Kristyn: Oh shut up Riddle.**

**Tom: Back off Hansen, we were here first. And I am the main character, so I can say what I want to. Now leave!**

**Kristyn: Silencio!**

**Tom: -Glares-**

**So anyway, I don't own Harry Potter.**

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**Chapter 13: A Relapse**

Sitting at the Slytherin table was uncomfortable for Hermione for many reasons. First off, she was a Gryffindor, and Gryffindors just don't sit there! Secondly, Rosier kept staring at her over his goblet. Luckily, Tom didn't notice, as he was ironically too busy trying to make his fiancé comfortable. And third, since he was no longer "available" he was suddenly very popular. Three Slytherin girls had seated themselves across from the young couple, and kept pestering them with questions.

"So Riddle, how did you propose?" asked Reina Barnswell, a pretty, wealthy, pureblooded, bitchy, African American girl asked him, choosing to ignore Hermione completely. He frowned.

"What's it to you, Barnswell?" he retorted, protectively placing his hand on Hermione's knee under the table.

"What? Can't a girl live vicariously for a minute?" the snooty girl drawled.

"Oh do tell!" exclaimed the girl next to Reina, named Kate Centofanti. The girl smiled widely, displaying heavy muggle orthodontia, even though she bragged of tracing her pureblood family tree back centuries. Rosier snorted into his food halfway down the table, causing Hermione to twitch uneasily, layering her hand above Tom's.

"So you are a pureblood, right?" asked the third girl in an airy voice. Leigh Wellington stared placidly at Hermione through her straight blond hair. Both Tom and his mate got very silent, as did the whole table, waiting for her answer.

"Are you?" Hermione countered, noticing by chance the very expensive however very muggle designer earrings neatly tucked beneath her hair. The girl blushed, and Hermione thanked any deities that were listening that her mother had been obsessed with all things fashion.

"Apparently you're not," growled Rosier, and Hermione snapped her head to the left to glare at him, when suddenly his mouth began to move with no sound coming out. Tom snickered as Rosier started to yell profanities silently, banging his fists on the table. The Slytherins joined in his snickering, Hermione included.

"Nice nonverbal magic," she whispered in his ear. He smirked and whispered back,

"Who says it was me?" Rosier stood up and pointed wildly at Tom before losing his balance and tripping backward over the bench. The whole hall joined in the snake house's laughter as the boy stood up and stormed off, only to reach the end of the tables as a girl at the Gryffindor table, who Hermione later identified as Kristyn, stuck out her leg, causing him to trip again. They now howled with laughter as Rosier yet again leapt back up and bolted out the door.

Tom turned back to the three girls across from him and asked, "Any more questions, girls?" They shook their heads frantically, not wanting the same fate as Rosier. He stood up and guided Hermione over the bench. "If you'll excuse us, we're off to bed," he announced quietly as the cacophony died down. Avery whistled, but the couple just turned and walked towards the doors. Hermione noticed Perry wasn't with Kristyn at the Gryffindor table, and that she was instead sitting with a boy with shaggy black hair and glasses with hazel eyes and kind features, who seemed to be about 15. She waved at them as she passed, and both Kristyn and Harry's grandfather waved back. She didn't notice Tom stiffen because of the innocent exchange and she only smiled when he pressed his hand on the small of her back, subtly getting her to quicken her pace.

When they were out in the hallway Tom's cocky demeanor faded like the last ray of sunlight before the sun set.

"Was it just me, or was I not the only one to notice Richard Potter's stunning resemblance to your friend Harry?" he spat, walking quickly ahead of her. She struggled to keep up with his long strides.

"He's his grandfather, I'm guessing." Tom snarled at nothing imparticular. "What _is_ it Tom?" He whirled around, his school robe billowing about his knees, reminding her of the late professor Snape.

"You know how people say I'm the ultimate Slytherin? I'm sneaky, sly, power hungry, the works?" Well, Potter is like the ultimate Gryffindor!" There was ice in his tone, and she stepped back in shock. His eyes were an infuriated black, with just the smallest glint of _red_. _Oh no, don't back out on me now,_ she gasped to herself, as a small snicker plagued the back of her mind. _Damn it Malfoy, now is not the time!_ "He's brave, selfless, open minded and all that shit. People say he's the actual heir of Gryffindor! Needless to say, we don't exactly see eye to eye." Believing to have explained himself adequately, he turned back around and continued his fast pace. Having no other option, Hermione ran after him.

"What do you want me to _say_, Tom?"

"Say you'll stay away from him!" She let out a bitter laugh and he stiffened but didn't slow his strides.

"I haven't even been introduced to him! You need to stop worrying that you're going to lose me! You're _not_!" He finally stopped walking, as she realized that she had been yelling. "You're not," she repeated softly, finally catching up to him and laying her hand on his shoulder. Fearing what she might see, she pivoted him gently. The glint was gone. In its place was undeniable shame. She cupped his cheek with her palm and lightly slid her thumb over the soft skin under his eye. He leaned into her caress. "I love you, and I'm not going to leave you for some random guy I haven't met." He moved his mouth to speak, but she lowered her hand down to cover his lips. "Shh," she cooed. "If you're going to marry me you really have to trust me. Can you trust me?" He nodded slowly, disabled by her hand still covering her mouth. "Good." She removed her hand and rested it on the back of his neck. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. _I'm so never telling him about what Rosier did,_ thought to herself as she exhaled slightly against her lips before gently kissing her. _He would totally relapse._ He slid his arm under her knees and carefully scooped her up into his arms, before turning around and walking back to their rooms. "What are you doing?" she asked, looking up at him curiously.

"I'm escorting the fair maiden to her castle," he said with a hint of slight sarcasm. "Your night in shining armor asked me to stand in for him while he is off slaying dragons."

"I don't see what you mean. He's right in front of me." Tom's lips curled up at the edges. He carried her up a flight of stairs as she marveled at how strong he was. She wasn't exactly feather light, and yet he wasn't even breaking a sweat. "You don't have to do this, you can put me down," she said as they reached the portrait of the vampire. Tom made no move to release her.

"Oh but I want to do this. Lethifold." The painting swung open and he somehow managed to slide in the hole without releasing her. However, the room was not empty. Perry lay across the red lined sofa with her head in the lap of a brown haired boy Hermione had never seen before. He stroked her hair while gazing down at her face adoringly. Judging by the long scar that ran down the side of his face, he was Gabriel le Soir. Upon noticing he was no longer alone in the room, he gave a slight wave of greeting and pressed his finger to his lips, motioning to the girl in his lap. Rom nodded and reluctantly lowered Hermione to the ground so she could tip toe into their bedroom.

She pulled off her shoes and pulled the curtains open, bathing the room in pale moonlight along with the faint glow from the few candles that were scattered around her. She sat down on the bed and ran her hand over the silk covers. Yes, green was growing on her, though she did miss her familiar red and gold. It would be nice to go back to her room and her own books. Tom would love the new and updated library at her Hogwarts. Absentmindedly, she fingered the gold chain around her neck. Hermione didn't like to take off her time turner. It was like an insurance policy. One wrong step, one dangerous situation, and poof! She would be back to her own time. Things would be so different at home…

And yet, would they be? A time turner didn't alter the past, it just repeated it! Technically things wouldn't be the same when she returned! When she had gone back in time in her third year, Harry's patronus had followed time, not changed it! Oh no, was she causing Tom to be Voldemort? But that couldn't be! Why had this only occurred to her now?

Tom entered the room, carrying two butter beers. Wordlessly he sat down next to her and handed her a bottle. She took it, popped off the cap with her wand, and guzzled the whole thing in 10 seconds. He watched her in shock and awe.

"Are you feeling ok, Hermione?" She nodded and magically refilled her bottle, dropping her wand onto the bed as she sucked it down like she had the other one. "Wait, slow down!" he said as he tried to pry the bottle out of her grasp. She clung to it but he was stronger and he yanked it from her. Then he placed it behind him, leaning against the footboard. Without warning, she burst into tears.

"I'm making you evil! I'm not changing history, I'm following it!" she wailed. Tom silenced the room before pulling the weeping girl into his lap.

"Sush, Mione, don't be silly," he whispered into her ear as she buried her head into his neck. Wow, was this her third or fourth crying jag in six days? "Dumbledore wouldn't have sent you back if you were making me into Voldemort."

"But then what am I doing? I know how-how time turners work!" He found the sensitive spot on the back of her neck and massaged it gently. She trembled uneasily.

"This is Dumbledore, he probably charmed it or something so it could change history, or maybe it's a special type of turner that can do that." She nodded feebly and stopped crying as suddenly as she had started. "There there, now why don't you go get in your pajamas and we can go to sleep early?" The girl eased herself off him and wiped away her tears on the sleeve of her uniform robe. Hermione hic-upped softly and he chuckled. Tom stood up and ventured over to his pristine dresser as she struggled with her unsteady breathing. Feeling satisfied, he turned back around and handed her a pair of navy boxers and a plain black cotton t-shirt, which looked way to big for her. Intrigued and yet confused, she looked up from the clothing at Tom, who had his arms folded and legs apart, looking once again like Snape. Upon seeing her puzzled expression he added, "You can sleep in those, I figure they'll be more comfortable." She nodded sheepishly and stood up, hugging the spare clothing to her chest as she hurried past him. He sighed and slid off his robe before hanging it in his closet.

_Honestly, why does she get so jumpy at the oddest times? It's just a bloody pair of boxers! _In reply, a snarky little voice from the back of his mind voiced,

_It's not like she's seen the opposite sex's underwear other than that one time you slept on the couch._ He growled at the voice as he slowly undressed to his underclothes and slid the silk covers. _You're one to talk, Tom, it's not like you've got more experience,_ the voice added. Well, that was true. Hermione always slept in pajamas, and it's not like he'd ever even kissed another girl before her. It had just never been an interest. _But it is now,_ the voice went on, _and you're scared out of your mind about what to do next._ To put it eloquently, it was true. With a gruff flick of his wand he snuffed the candles and waited for Hermione to return. He knew she wasn't more experienced than him, but he would bet anything that she knew more about it than he did. He would mess it up somehow if he… attempted anything. Maybe he should just ignore the idea. Then it was settled, he would let her initiate… _it_.

Hermione slid in beside him quietly. He turned on his side and her caramel eyes blinked back at him.

"Are they ok?" She nodded and he pulled her over so her back was to his front. She didn't protest as he draped his arm over her shoulder. "The question is, are you okay?" Hw couldn't see her expression as she took a deep breath.

"Yeah." But something didn't feel right. It wasn't that she was scared or that he was confused, there was just a note of uneasiness. They were both worried about the future, or Hermione's present. Most people wouldn't remember him as long as he continued to keep a low profile, but his professors would. What would they tell them? As much as it pained him to admit it, they would have to go to Dumbledore for help.

"Merry Christmas Tom," she whispered, and his hold on her tightened slightly.

"Merry Christmas Hermione."

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

Gabriel was happy to be home. His girlfriend was in his arms, and his best friends were around him. The only thing weird was that he was confused. It was the little things that did it. Little snippets of gossip he had overheard in the infirmary, such as the fact that Riddle was engaged. That was shock enough. Riddle was gruff, moody, distant, and sneaky. What was he doing with a fiancé? Someone had said she was a Gryffindor as well. That just didn't add up. Well, all the more power to Riddle. She seemed nice.

Perry's kitten Yvonne leapt up onto the sofa beside him, butting his free hand with her pink nose. He stroked her soft back as he rearranged Perry in his laps so she would be more comfortable. She rested on softly. Yes, it was good to be home.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

Rosier was happy. His plan was working. The Granger girl was nervous and jumpy, and it was rubbing off on Riddle. Sure, the "Attack her and break her" idea hadn't ended well, but it seemed to have had the wanted effect. Now he just had to wait for the right moment. No matter how much Riddle had been trying to hide it lately, he knew more about the Dark Arts than anyone, and Rosier knew his weakness. One curse and Riddle would be his. He would have power soon.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**A/N: Ok, so that was short compared to some of my other chapters and I apologize for the wait. Don't worry, there's a MAJOR chapter next. –Evil Cackle- Anyway, I just want to thank you for 150 reviews! Okay, I'm at 149, but I know within the hour I'll have 150! Yay! This fan fic is almost finished; so I'm begging you, get me to 200! PLEASE! Teaser?**

"_Is Mrs. Riddle afraid of the dark?" He walked slowly towards her as she backed up into a tree._

**MWAHA! EVIL TEASER! Well, we're almost to the end now, so I just couldn't resist. 3 MORE LEFT! AHHHHHHH! Anyway, laters!**

**Final Word Count: 2758**


	14. A Return

**A/N: Well here it is, the chapter you've all been waiting for! It's not all that long, but it's cool. It's worth it. And I still want to get to 200 reviews before I finish. I've only got one chapter and an epilogue after this. I know! It's gone so fast! -Tear-**

**Disclaimer: Tom: What's up with Rosier lately? He's up to something!**

**Kristyn: -Looks at Hermione-**

**Hermione: I don't know.**

**Kristyn: Well actually-**

**Hermione: Tom, why don't we go back to your dorm?**

**Tom: -Raises eyebrow-**

**So anyway, I don't own Harry Potter. **

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**Chapter 14: A Return**

The big oak tree by the lake swayed gently from side to side in the light winter breeze over hr heads of the students settled underneath it. Perry lent back against Gabriel, pulling his cloak so that it kept her warm too. Next to them on the blanket they had charmed to stay dry was Kristyn, who was helping her boyfriend Kyle cut off bent twigs from his broomstick. Hermione sat across from the two couples on her own, getting to know more about the two boys as they argued about whether the Chudly Cannons were starting a losing streak. Kyle reminded her of Ron. He was warm, funny, and just a little slow, but very protective of Kristyn. In short, it reminded her of herself and Ron, but Kristyn loved Kyle, even if she didn't know it yet. And Gabriel was like Harry, poised and well mannered, however sullen. She had no doubt he had seen terrible things, he had been forced to murder the parents of his girlfriend for bloody sake, and he had the same aura of pain as Harry. The two boys were emotionally scarred, though neither had mentioned it. Just as Harry had, Gabriel soothed his own mind by doting on Perry. This whole situation was eerily familiar.

She felt like a fifth wheel. She had popped in out of nowhere, as people kept saying, and this foursome had welcomed her into their clique, but it didn't feel like she belonged. She was meant to be with Harry and Ron, 60 years from now. With a pang she realized Tom would feel this way, if he were to return with her. Picking at a thread from the blanket underneath her, she wished Tom had been in Ravenclaw. It would make it all so much easier. Of course, if he weren't in Slytherin, he wouldn't be the Tom that she loved.

"You okay there, Hermione?" asked Kyle. They were all staring at her. With a jolt she realized that she had been staring out into space for at least ten minutes. "You looked a hundred miles way there."

_More like a hundred years,_ she thought, shivering as the sun began to set.

"I'm fine." Kyle nodded, but the girls looked at her skeptically. "You know, I'm gonna go for a walk," she said, standing up. The gang nodded and Hermione pulled her car coat closer around her and stepped off the blanket, regretting the loss of warmth.

"Watch out for things that go bump in the night," Kristyn advised with a blank face. The other three laughed, but Hermione and Kristyn didn't. She nodded and gave a final wave before turning to walk away. They both knew what she meant: Rosier.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

Night had fallen as Hermione strolled along the edge of the forbidden forest. With her wand lit to guide her steps, she was not afraid of the dark scenery. She had been in the forest on several occasions, and although she knew of its dangers, it no longer scared her. The familiarity and sense of detachment she always felt when she walked along the row of trees was soothing and let her think. Then again, the more she thought, the more she wanted to clear her mind. She wondered where one could buy a pensive.

If she were to go back, it would have to be soon. Her new friends would be harder to leave behind if she stayed any longer. She needed to talk to Dumbledore, he would advise her. They would need his help if they were going to try and fit in, a few people would surely remember Tom, even if they wouldn't miss him. The head boy couldn't just disappear in the middle of the year without a trace, only to reappear 50 years later, not a day older than when he left. At least they wouldn't have to worry about Voldemort.

Things would be so different with You-Know-Who gone. Harry wouldn't have his scar, Sirius would still live to embarrass her, and Lily and James would be parents to their son. What would happen to Wormtail? Would he still be a darkness follower if he had no one to follow? Where would Lucius Malfoy be and would she still have to deal with little "Master Draco?" She would get to see her parents again, and the Weasleys. Of course Remus would be alive and maybe not even a werewolf, depending on whether Fenir Greyback was working with Voldemort.

Hermione hummed a little tune quietly under her breath, while turning around a corner to avoid the Whomping Willow. With a start she realized the villainous tree had yet to be planted, but she continued on her way down through the trees into the forest, heading toward the small pool where Harry had defeated the dementors. It was so quiet, and the water so still. She sat down on the pebbled ground, wondering if her friends would even be the same when she returned. She was so lost in thought that she jumped a foot when a terror inducing voice whispered in her ear,

"Is Mrs. Riddle afraid of the dark?" She leapt to her feet in alarm and whirled around to see her current least favorite person, Rosier. His leering grin was in place, his wand extended. He walked slowly forward as she backed up into a tree. Within milliseconds she had her wand pointed at him, but he flicked his own and hers clattered to the ground by his feet. "I guess so," he observed as his black cloak hung to his feet. "And where is your half-blood boyfriend to protect you?" This was getting aggravating.

"What the hell do you want, Rosier," she asked, a hint of fear creeping into her voice. She could defend herself, but Rosier learned from his mistakes and without her wand, she proved quite useless.

"I want to know why Riddle's throwing his life away for you. It's not that you're pretty." He was only 2 feet away, but she couldn't run. It felt like her legs were nailed to the ground. Rosier extended a hand and traced the outline of her face. She flinched as his finger grazed her cheek.

_Damn it Granger, you've faced Voldemort and you freeze now?_ Her Malfoy conscience yelled. Damn it, where was Tom?

"Not that it matters much longer. Soon you'll be gone and Riddle will join you soon after. Lord Soirer will rise above all." She would have laughed at his pathetic name, but she was scared out of her mind. "Chin up Mudblood, die with pride," he told her as he nudged his wand against her breastbone. "Say goodbye."

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

Something wasn't right, Tom could feel it. He tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut as he skimmed a book on DADA at a table in the library, but it didn't go away. He pushed back his hair with his palm as his heart rate quickened.

_Hermione's safe, she's with Minella and Hansen, _he told himself, struggling to concentrate, but he could almost hear her yelling for him to save her. _Stop it, you're imagining it._ But even so, a scream filled his mind. This was insane. He could go check on her right? She was his fiancé; they couldn't chide him for double-checking.

So he snapped his book shut and left the library, heading toward the grounds. The group had gone out for a picnic or something equally juvenile, so he went in that direction, quickening his pace as he realized that Rosier hadn't been at dinner. Had he done something?

The winter air bit at the side of his simple uniform robe as he scanned the dark horizon for the giant halo of Hermione's hair. A dim glow was coming from the oak tree by the lake, but he only saw four profiles. Down right scared, he ran in that direction. The four teenagers looked up curiously as he stopped in front of them, trying to hide his lack of breath.

"Have you –pant- seen –pant- Hermione?" he asked as Kyle glared at him openly.

"She went that direction," Hansen answered, pointing to the forbidden forest. He nodded. "I'd find her before someone else does." His face paled as she confirmed his suspicions. Tom broke off into a run.

"That was strange," Gabriel observed. "Riddle never runs."

"Well Riddle never proposed before either," added Kyle.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

Tom skulked through the trees as quietly as he could. She was here, he could feel it. There was no light other than from the moon and though he was by far not afraid of the dark, it in no way comforted him. She was unhurt, but frightened. He needed to hurry up. There was a clearing ahead, perhaps she was there?

He pressed his back to a tree and crept slowly around, careful so he was not seen. Yes there she was, looking brave, though he could feel her terror. And who was that, touching her face? He couldn't tell, the figure had his hood up. But wait, he was talking.

"Lord Soirer will rise above all." Soirer… Yes, that was Rosier, threatening his fiancé! "Chin up mudblood, die with pride." He pressed his wand just below her neck. That was it; this game had gone far enough. Tom stepped out from the shadows, fuming at the treatment of Hermione. "Say goodbye."

"Good afternoon, Rosier," Tom drawled in his dark voice that he reserved only for his death eaters. Rosier froze, busted. Hermione had never looked so relieved to see him. "May I ask what you're doing with my fiancé?" Rosier slowly turned, still grinning, with his want still aimed. Tom had his own wand pointed at the boy, his hand steady.

"Drop your wand or she dies, Riddle," he announced, his voice also silky and frighteningly honest. Tom didn't move, and Hermione tried to convey her thoughts to him.

_Don't drop it. No, don't let go!_

"You wouldn't have the guts to kill someone, Rosier. You know you wouldn't be able to even say the incantation." But Rosier just continued leering.

"Try me Riddle." Tom grudgingly had to admit, it was better to be safe than sorry. If Hermione were ever hurt on his watch, he would never forgive himself. Reluctantly, he let his wand drop to the snow below him.

"No Tom!" Hermione yelled, but Rosier pulled his wand away as promised and let it hang at his side. Instantly, she ran over to Tom and cowered behind him, grasping his hand in her own like it was the only line connecting her to a space shuttle.

"Funny, I thought you always said that love was a weakness," Rosier observed in a very Luna-like tone. Tom made a move to fetch his wand, but Rosier pointed his own and accioed the wood to him. Both Tom and Hermione's were slipped into his pocket.

"You're wrong, love is a strength," Tom countered, moving just in front of Hermione protectively.

"Look where it got you. Pretending to be someone you're not must be a wonderful experience. You can't hide it Riddle, you're still Lord Voldemort." He raised his wand again.

"I'm not Voldemort anymore and I never will be." Rosier scoffed.

"Whatever you say, you know once she's dead you'll relapse. She's the only thing keeping you from the Slytherin common room." Tom gulped. It wasn't true. He wouldn't. He had _promised_ he wouldn't!

"Why are you doing this, Rosier?"

"Because I'm not letting my chance for power slide because of some mudblood!"

"Watch your mouth! My father was a muggle!" _Shit, they're both losing their tempers,_ Hermione realized as Tom's hold on her hand tightened. _This is not good!_

"You mean the one who abandoned you? Ack, screw this! Let me just kill the girl and we can forget this past week. Move aside." Tom didn't move.

"No!"

"Move!"

"Make me!"

"Fine! Avada Kedavra!" Hermione froze as a green light filled the clearing. It was over and Rosier cackled as Tom fell backwards onto Hermione. She couldn't even scream as he slid down onto the ground to lie on his back with his eyes closed. _No,_ she though as she sunk onto her knees beside him. _No, he can't be dead, he's Voldemort! He can't die! He's not human!_ But Tom was human, he was just a boy.

"Are you happy now, mudblood? I just destroyed my last chance for power because of you! Well, your time is up. I suppose you'll be seeing Riddle again soon, I wouldn't know. I have never dies."

_No, he can't be gone! This is Tom! What have I done? _Rosier was looking down at her, his wand pointed to her temple. She didn't even care. If Tom was gone, she was too.

"Avada Kedavra." The pain was unbearable, and she fell backward. Her head felt like it was splitting open, and she heard screaming, though it wasn't her own. Why wouldn't it end? She curled up into the fetal position, her bones rattling with the agonizing ache. It was worse than Crucio, worse than death. She couldn't breathe. Why wasn't she just dying?

But then it was over and the clearing was bathed in silence. She took several racking breaths, her head still splitting, and tried to sit up. Was she a ghost? But ghosts couldn't breathe. Hermione forced her eyes to open, but immediately wished she hadn't. Rosier lay dead next to Tom. Tom's lips were turning blue. This wasn't real, it couldn't be. She yanked her Timeturner out from under her coat and frantically wound the hourglass forward. No. She couldn't take this anymore. She was going home.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**A/N: Hating me yet? You should. But don't give up hope. It gets better. Really. Trust me! The next chapter gets interesting.**

**Anyway, did you see any quotes or ideas stolen from the Harry Potter books? Like the whole "I have never died thing?" Or any similar situations? Cough HarryLilyVoldy cough. Teaser?**

"**No, no. Stay down, it will keep your head from hurting," Harry advised. She complied, wondering what he was talking about. He was the one with the scar.**

**Mwaha, she goes back to the present. –Giggles- Toodles!**

Final Word Count: 2479


	15. A Girl Who Lived

**A/N: My god, you all need to control yourselves! I promised you that this fic would have a happy ending, so why would I just kill off Tom and leave it there? Anyway, you need to have faith in me! Trust thy author!**

**Disclaimer: Harry: Mione's back!**

**Ginny: Yay!**

**Hermione: -Sob-**

**Hermione's Inner Malfoy: -Smirk-**

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**Chapter 15: A Girl-Who-Lived**

The first thing Hermione felt when she woke up was her head. It was roaring with fire and she really thought the Knight bus had hit her. She groaned and raised a hand to her forehead to touch the sensitive area, before wincing and pulling it away.

She realized with a jolt that she wasn't lying outside in the snow where she had passed out, but inside on what felt like a soft bed. Her eyes wouldn't open, so she blindly groped around next to her. Yup, cotton. Her fingers snagged a mess head of hair, and she blindly opened an eye. Someone giggled. A boy with shaggy black hair smiled back at her, pretending not to see her hand entwined in his hair. He waved to her and she tried to prop herself up on her elbows.

"No, no, stay down. It will keep your scar from hurting." She complied, wondering what he was talking about. _He_ was the one with the scar and the past week had just been a dream. Tom was Voldemort, and she was in 2nd year after being woken up from being petrified. It wasn't real. It couldn't be real. She didn't fall in love with Tom Riddle because Tom Riddle couldn't _die_. She blinked and looked back at Harry. Sitting next to him was Ginny.

"Wha- wha happed?" she mumbled as her head tinged with pain. "Was rog wif my hed?" Harry gulped and reached for something on her nightstand. He gave her a mirror, and she feebly took it, positioning it so she could see her head. On her forehead was a lightening bolt scar. She looked at Harry. His face was unmarked.

She was the girl-who-lived. Rosier had tried to kill her, but since Tom had sacrificed himself for her, she didn't die. It had rebounded onto Rosier and since he didn't have any horcruxes, he had died instead. That meant it had been real. And Tom really was gone. She gave Harry the mirror back and picked up her left hand. She still wore her engagement ring. It twinkled warmly, but she felt colder than before. She shivered, but there was no Tom to fetch her a blanket. It was over, she had done her job.

She closed her eyes.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

When she woke again, the weight on her head had been lifted. She sat up and looked about the room, half expecting Tom to be hovering over her, anxiously looking her over for bruises. She was alone, back in the modern infirmary. It no longer felt like home. Everything felt like it was in black and white, all different shades of gray.

"Feeling lost, Ms. Granger?" She turned to see Professor Dumbledore sitting in the chair Harry had been in earlier, appearing as if from no where. He didn't surprise her, she was sure nothing ever would surprise her again.

"Just a tad." He nodded.

"Well, first I must ask you to recount what happened that night in the forbidden forest over 50 years ago, before I can give you any answers to your own questions." She winced. _No, I don't want to think about that._

_Don't start that again, you have to keep going, _a new voice from the back of her mind told her. That voice almost made her cry.

"I decided to go for a walk in the forest, most unwisely," she started, looking down at her ring. Why was it still twinkling? "Rosier cornered me, but Tom stepped in. Rosier told Tom to step aside so he could kill me, but Tom refused. They went back and forth until Rosier lost his temper and killed Tom." She glared at the ring. It was mocking her. It had some nerve. "Then Rosier tried to kill me, but it wouldn't work. Rosier died instead and I panicked and used the timeturner to come back to the present." She looked up, ashamed, and met his gaze. To her anger, but not surprise, he smiled, eyes glittering with imaginary stars like that damn ring.

"I'm afraid that I see a flaw in your story, Ms. Granger."

"And what would that be?" He pressed the tips of his fingers together and peered at her over his spectacles.

"Because, my dear, Tom Riddle is not dead." Ok, now _that_ surprised her.

"Excuse me?" _No, this is a joke. A very cruel joke. No one survives Avada Kedavra if they aren't protected!_

_But you said it yourself; I'm not a normal wizard,_ that new voice whispered. Dumbledore chuckled softly.

"No, Tom Riddle is not dead, and I have no idea why. For the past half century he has been residing in a non-responsive coma in a private room off the hospital wing.

Told you so, whispered the other voice. He wasn't dead! She had left him in the snow, alone. He had gone into a coma!

"But… how?"

"Well, I don't know how he survived, but I believe I know how you survived, if you're interested. In my opinion that is the most striking detail." She nodded, wondering herself, though she had a hunch she already knew why. "It is my belief that when tom sacrificed himself to protect you, he made it so that no one could harm you. That seems to be the cause of Mr. Rosier's demise. What puzzles me is why young Tom didn't die as well, as there was nothing protecting him…" he tapered off as Hermione dissected this information. She had a vague hunch as to why he had lived now. She had sacrificed herself for him, trusting him and going back in time with no one to support her at all. She had given up everything for him. And now she was the girl-who-lived. She had taken Harry's place taken his scar even. Tom had protected her. Tom! She had to see him!

"May I see Tom?" she asked, and he gave her a small smile.

"Of course. But I must warn you that 50 years have passed since you've seen him last."

"So he's 70 years old?" Dumbledore grinned, his twinkle seeming to say, _I know something you don't know._

"You would think, wouldn't you?"

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

Hermione peeked her fluffy head around the door, wondering what she would find. It would be a horrible ending to a horrible tale if Tom were a 70-year-old non-responsive old man when she saw him.

"I'll leave you two alone," Dumbledore told her as she stepped into the room. It was dark, lit by a single flickering candle on the table beside the bed. The professor gave her a gentle push towards it, before closing the door.

She took a deep breath before sitting down in an armchair beside him and opening her eyes. He looked just as he had when she'd left him, minus the blue lips. She gasped. He still looked seventeen, his hair slightly coiffed and his eyes closed. His mouth was partly open, revealing tow rows of perfect white teeth.

"Oh Tom," she breathed. This was amazing, this had never happened before! It couldn't be real, she had to be dreaming. She pinched herself, but the world stayed the same. "Bloody hell, you're real." Without realizing what she was doing, she moved onto the bed beside him, sitting with her legs bent underneath her.

_Don't just sit there, you fool, help him_, her Malfoy conscience drawled.

"What am I supposed to do?" she said aloud.

_Think rationally_, her Tom conscience observed. What haven't I had for 50 years?

"Me?"

_Duh_, the Malfoy voice added. She wiped a small tear from her eye before pushing his hair off his face. He didn't move.

"It didn't work."

_Well of course not, Granger, hairs don't have nerve endings_! His hand rested above the white quilt by her knee. She closed her eyes and rested her palm over his knuckles. The bed shifted.

"Hermione?" a small voice mumbled. _It had worked_. She opened one eye and saw a very confused, but very much awake Tom staring up at her. "Bloody hell, what's that scar?" She released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and threw herself down on top of him, resting her head between his shoulder and his neck.

"Thank Merlin you're okay," she stammered hopelessly as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"Of course I'm ok. Sh, I'm here."

"I really thought I'd lost you." He kissed her temple lovingly.

"You could never lose me, because to lose me I would have to leave you, and I will never ever leave you." She blinked against his skin, just enjoying feeling close to him.

"Welcome to the future, Tom," she whispered softly. "People are a lot more open these days." He stiffened unconsciously, his eyebrows raised.

"Oh?"

"And I doubt Mme. Pomphrey or Dumbledore will be coming back any time soon," she added as she moved to straddle his stomach. He looked up at her anxiously; understand what she was hinting at. But he didn't stop her.

"We can always just lock the door," he whispered innocently, before breaking into a full on Riddle smirk.

"That sounds good to me," she responded, before leaning down to kiss him. He didn't even have time to lock the door, nor did they silence the room.

Not that anyone would dare interrupt Tom Riddle as he lost his innocence, so to speak.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**A/N: HAHA, I loved that last line. Why do I always use that clichéd line, you ask? Cause it's fun! Anyway, all that's left this epilogue now. I know! -Sob- It's gone so fast! And I won't give you a teaser, cause it's the epilogue, and it's tacky to teaser an epilogue, right? Anyway, did I totally blow your mind with the whole girl-who-lived thing? Comments? REVIEW! I STILL WANT TO GET TO 200! And check out my new fan fic, Where White Meets Black, it's Dramione, but I'm proud of it!**

**Final word Count: 1727**


	16. A Lord and Lady Voldything

**A/N: I cannot believe it, it's over. This is the last chapter! I almost want to stop typing; I don't want this to end! So anyway, I know it's a lot to ask, but could you please help me to 250 reviews? It would be a great early birthday present. And in the mean time I'll try to think of a possible sequel to this, sound good? Shall I just start? I know that's all you want.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Stop asking. Heh.**

**0o0o0o0o0o0**

**The Epilogue: Lord and Lady Voldything**

Hermione sat nervously at the head table, trembling with anticipation. The students in the Great Hall watched her, whispering behind their hands. Others waved to her, such as Lily Potter, Ginny and Harry's daughter, and Brett Weasely, Ron and Lavender's son. She did her best to focus on the sorting of the new first years, but she was much too jumpy.

"Relax, you're going to be fine," Tom whispered in her ear, his deep voice soothing her a small amount. "I don't know what you're afraid of anyway." She sighed and swiveled her head, meeting her gaze. His warm dark eyes (A/N: oxymoron anyone?) were always calming, and she didn't object when he lowered his hand onto her knee, stroking her cloak-covered skin gently.

"That's easy for you to say, you've already been DADA teacher for a year now," she whispered in reply, her voice lacking all ice.

"You know we belong here, you shouldn't be so frightened." Applause filled the hall as Headmaster McGonagall, who had replaced Dumbledore a few years previously, after he announced his retirement, stood up to address the school.

"Welcome students to another year at Hogwarts. I hope you all are ready to learn." Tom smirked as the hall of students grumbled. "Before I explain the school rules I am pleased to announce that we have a new professor among us this year. Professor Hermione Riddle shall be taking Professor Flitwick's job as Charms teacher." Hermione smiled and waved while blushing at the use of her sir-name and the reaction it got from the students. Tom continued smirking and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"The worst is over," he whispered, ignoring her pitiful attempts of shrugging his arm off her shoulder. The headmistress continued speaking as Hermione burned to glare at her husband.

"Tom! You're going to make poor Clark's head explode," she hissed, gesturing over to their son at the Ravenclaw table. He rolled his eyes.

"He's not even looking, he's to busy staring at Lily." Hermione reluctantly glanced at him and followed the 3rd year boy's gaze. He was indeed watching the 2nd year Gryffindor. "Isn't she a little young for him?"

"That didn't stop Harry, Ginny's a year younger than him and that didn't stop him from snogging her senseless in front of the whole common room." Tom shrugged and glared at his plate.

"Damn, when's the food coming?"

"Chill Tom, don't eat the table. And I think it's cute, Clark's crush. They would be an adorable couple when they're older." Tom looked at her in disbelief.

"But she's supposedly the heir of Gryffindor! And Clark's the heir of Slytherin! That's just wrong!" Hermione scowled at him, finally succeeding in shrugging off his arm.

"Clark isn't even _in_ Slytherin!" His eyes darkened, but she wasn't threatened. He wasn't that person anymore.

"Don't get me started on that damn hat," he hissed back, rewrapping his arm.

"With that final note, let the feast begin," McGonagall finished and the plates filled immediately with food. Tom dove elegantly for a platter of stake as a first year with brown hair down to her shoulders and a round but pretty face caught Hermione's eye. She turned to Professor Sinistra, who was on her left.

"Professor, who's that first year at the Gryffindor table? Tom was distracting me so I didn't catch her name during the sorting."

"Hermione, you can call me Melissa, you are a staff member, not a student. And that is Sarah le Soir, you might have heard about her before. She's the great granddaughter of Gabriel and Perry le Soir." Yes, that explained why she was so familiar. She looked just like her great grandmother, and she had her great grandfather's nose. Hermione didn't recognize her eyes, nor her shell-like ears, but there was no mistaking it, this was Perry's descendent.

"Tom," she said to her husband as he cut his stake.

"What?"

"Look at that girl." She pointed to Sarah and Tom followed her finger's trajectory.

"Is that-"

"Perry's great granddaughter Sarah le Soir. Se should be fun to teach, huh?" He rolled his eyes again. She laughed and punched his shoulder. "What are you, seventeen?"

"Are you saying I wasn't wonderful and understanding when I was seventeen?" Tom gave her a puppy dog put she had seen on her first day in the 40s. "I recall you also thought I was gentle and loving at that age as well." He gave her a very Slytherin wink.

"You've been spending too much time with Ron." She ladled some pasta onto her plate as Tom snickered to himself. "Speaking of whom, he owled to this morning to say he's been promoted to head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports at the ministry."

"Good for him. And how's Lav Lav?" Hermione chuckled and smacked him on the shoulder.

"Didn't I tell you? She's expecting again." Tom dropped his fork onto his plate and snorted softly.

"At 35? Isn't she getting a little too old to have another kid?" Hermione gave a sly grin.

"I guess Weasleys are just really fertile." He gagged on his glass of water.

"I'm eating here!"

"Whatever Lord Voldything." He glared at her and looked around to make sure no one was listening.

"If anyone overhears us, they'll think you're insane. And anyway, that would make you Lady Voldything." He kissed her on the cheek, leaning over the arm of his chair.

"Oh shut up." She bit into a role and he resumed cutting his meat.

"Ha ha, I win."

"No you don't! Just because I couldn't- oh!" Her voice pitch had risen to a shrill squeak and she glared at Tom. "You have to stop doing that damn spell!" He struggled to keel his face stoic as she hissed, "I can't believe you!" It didn't sound very menacing, since her voice resembled one of the members of Alvin and the Chipmunks.

"Are you accusing me?"

"Well let's see. That first day in Hosmead you told me you invented that bloody spell. And you've used it a thousand times on your poor son." He smirked as her voice cracked.

"Fine Mione, Normas chatten."

"Thank you." She sighed and returned to staring about the hall. Their son waved, flicking back his black hair, his brown eyes full of warmth. She grinned as she noticed a glint of gold around his neck, his thirteenth birthday gift. That time turner was defiantly going to be a family heirloom.

Yes, Hermione thought as Tom placed his arm around her shoulder for what had to be the hundredth time that day. I've done my job. Tom absentmindedly drew a circle onto her shoulder blade with his thumb. She raised her left hand to stroke her lightening bolt scar with her index finger, her defining mark. It's good to be home.

_Fin_

**0o0o0o0o0o0**

**A/N: Or not? Little Clark may do some time twisting, if I can think of a plot… Anyway, I would just like to thank my reviewers; you all make it worth updating. And check out my other stories, Magnetic Attraction, Where White Meets Black, and A Well-Kept Secret! **

**Special thanks to cckeimig (whose writing a really awesome story you should all read), The Hungarian Horntail, Limit, insanity.of.the.artist, pegasusbabi, MeRcY LeSs, AidenShadowBreeze, vagrantben, HaliJade Snape, san01, Kichou, xxxCheezItxxx (who needs to UPDATE ASAP!), HeLl HaVe No FuRy LiKe A woMan, wannabe-hermione, PapayaCrazy, and eolcin8688 in particular. As well as Perry and everyone else.**

**So, add me to author alert if you haven't already, and keep reviewing, long ones are the best. I really do read them all. **

**So toodles my dear readers, may you continue to worship Tom. I'll always answer PMs.**

**Goodbye! -Faints-**

**Final Word Count: 1380**


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